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WALTER CAMP'S BOOK
OF COLLEGE SPORTS

A RUN AROUND THE END.

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WALTER CAMP'S BOOK
OF COLLEGE SPORTS

WALTER CAMP

flevp an^ HevfeeO BMtion

NEW YORK: THE CENTURY CO.
1901

The DeVinne Press.

PREFACE

IN selecting the four branches of sport treated of
in this book I have taken those in which coaching
has been most generally demanded, and which, with
the exception of tennis, — a game already thoroughly
written up by others, — make up the main body of our
college sports. It is not my intention to bore the
reader with very much regarding the great value of
athletic sports to the development of a sound manhood.
Our generation has already arrived at very satisfactory
conclusions upon that point. I want to write to the
boy or man who not only loves his sports, but who
when he goes into them goes in heart and soul and
who means to win every time if he can, who wants a
fair field but no favors, who is ready to do his level
best, and when he sees a better man, can give up the
ball or the bat or the oar to him and stand aside with
a good grace and cheer himself hoarse for his school or
college, winning or losing, with an enthusiasm that
knows only fair play and the best man to win.

L5G051

CONTENTS

PAOB

Introduction 1

Track Athletics 13

Rowing 50

A Remarkable Boat Race 76

A Boat Race at New London 81

Foot-ball in America 88

Base-ball — FOR the Spectator 164

Base-ball — FOR the Player 184

Base-ball.— Diagram Field 279

Foot-ball. — ^Diagram Field 280

Appendix :

Rowing.— Original Form of Boating Agreement 283

Track Athletics. — Conditions governing the Harvard-
Yale Contests for the University Track Athletic Cup . . 287

Contract.— Form of Contract between Clubs and Ground
Owners 297

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

A Run Abound the End Frontispiece

The One-hundbed-yard Dash — the Start 21

Taking the Hurdles 23

The High Leap, Front View 26

The High Leap, Rear View 27

Vaulting the Bar at Eleven Feet Five Inches 28

Vaulting the Bar at Ten Feet Six Inches 29

Shot-putter Balancing 30

Putting the Shot 30

Putting the Shot 31

Shot-putter, Left View 31

S^vINGINo THE Hammer 32

The Hammer-thrower — the Start r. ." '..*.. ;.-. 32

The Bicycle 33

Quarter-back Taking the Ball 91

A Touch-down 93

A Fair Tackle 95

Diagram of Foot-Ball Field, with Measurements 103

Diagrams Showing Different Plays 105-110

Tackle of a Runner 129

A Try-at-Goal by a Place-kick 131

The open Scrimmage 135

lilAKiNG AN Opening for a Runner, under the Old Rules,
BY Using the Arms 137

xii ILLUSTKATIONS

PAGE

Lamar DoDama thb Yale Tacklbrs 143

Lamar after Passing Yale's Twenty-pive-yard Line 145

Bull, of Yale 148

The Polo Grounds During a Match 153

The Foot-ball Team Starting for the Polo Grounds.. 155

The Old Woolen Costume 158

PooT-BALL Player's Shoes 159

A Tackle 162

The Catcher 167

An " Out-curve " — the Beginning 169

An " Out-curve" — the End 169

Pitching a " Drop" Ball 171

Stopping a Grounder 171

Running to First Base 174

Sliding to Base 175

Fielder Catching a Fly 178

First Baseman Catching a High Ball 181

Diagram of the [Base-Ball] Field 187

Laying out an Amateur Field 189

Articles of a Base-ball Outfit 192

The Body Protector and Catcher's Mask 195

Pitcher at Practice in the ** Cage " 197

Practising Throwing with the Spool 200

Batting for the Fielders' Practice 203

Short-arm Throw— the Beginning 208

Short-arm Throw— the End 209

First Baseman Throwing to Second for a Double-play. 210

Making Sure of a Catch.— Left-fielder Catching, Center-
fielder Backing Him up 213

On the Alert. " Get off ! Get a Lead ! " 215

A Wild Throw and a Safe Slide to Second 217

ILLUSTRATIONS xiii

PAOR

" Out !" 219

" Jump in Front of the Ball" 221

Third Baseman Intergeptino the Slide of a Bunnsb from
Sbcx)nd 225

Playing a Trick on the Base-runner 227

First Baseman Taking a Low Throw by Reaching Forward 228

First Baseman Taking a Low Throw on the Long Bound 229

A Runner Caught between Third Base and the Home
Plate 231

Diagram op Pitcher's Curves 241

Catcher Signaling to Pitcher by Relative Position of
THE Mask and His Eyes 249

A Pitcher's Victim. Out on Strikes 251

Catcher Running for a " Foul Fly " 253

Catcher Throwing down to Second 257

Diagram op Batting 261

Base-runner Keeping on to Third 263

Shutting off a Runner at the Home Plate 266

"We Crossed the Home Plate within Three Feet of
Each Other" 269

"The Umpire Did not See Gardner at all, and was there-
fore wholly Unable to Say whether the Bxtn
Counted or not" 271

WALTER CAMPS BOOK OF
COLLEGE SPORTS

INTEODUCTION

''Who misses or who wins the prize.
Go lose or conquer as you can;
But if you fail or if you rise
Be each, pray God, a gentleman!^

BEFORE taking up the direct plan of this book
I want to seize upon the opportunity when,
my dear sirs, I find you all together and in such
good spirits that you will bear with an old preacher
for sermonizing a little. I will not bore you long,
but to each of you I have a word to say — to you,
my boy, just home from school for the short holi-
days; to you, young man, whose college years are
hastening by; to youj paterfamiliaSj who, relieved for
a day of business or professional cares, can spare a
moment to look back upon your own school and col-
lege days, over which the lapse of years has thrown
a glamour that, hiding some of the hard realities, still
lends a halo of romance to the incidents.

There is the Rev. Dr. Sixthly, who on every seventh
day spreads out before you, in choicest rhetoric, the

2 WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

tenets and doctrines of the church; there is the learned
Professor Syntax, who looks after your construing;
there is the new Professor Dumbell, who drags you
willy-nilly through a complex system of chest-measure-
ment and pulley-prescriptions; and there is Dr. Birch
himself, who switches you well for whittling the desk.
I shall not trespass upon the field of any of these
worthy developers of the young idea. The field I
enter with you, my boy, is the playground, where
you go out to meet your school rivals; I want you,
collegian, when you are after championships; I want
you, sir, when you are talking with your boy about
his sports.

"Be each, pray Gk)d, a gentleman!'' It is an easy
word, and a pleasant one. I don't doubt but that
you all pronounce it trippingly enough, and have each
one his own high ideal of what a gentleman should
be. Do you live up to it f Or are you letting it come
down a little here and there; so little, perhaps, that
you hardly notice it until you make comparison!
A gentleman against a gentleman always plays to
win. There is a tacit agreement between them that
each shall do his best, and the best man shall win.
A gentleman does not make his living, however,
from his athletic prowess. He does not earn any-
thing by his victories except glory and satisfaction.
Perhaps the first falling off in this respect began
when the laurel wreath became a mug. So long as
the mug was but the emblem, and valueless other-
wise, there was no harm. There is still no haiin
where the mug or trophy hangs in the room of the
winner as indicative of his skill; but if the silver

INTEODUCTION 3

mug becomes a silver dollar, either at the hands of
the winner or the donor, let us have the laurel back
again.

A gentleman never allows a money consideration to
affect his sport. Make no mistake about this. No matter
how winding the road may be that eventually brings
that dollar into the pocket, it is the price of what
should be dearer to you than anything else, — your
honor. It is quite the fashion to say ^^sentimental
bosh'' to any one who preaches such an old-fashioned
thing as honor; but among true gentlemen, my boy,
it is just as real an article as ever, and it is one of
the few things that never ring false. The man who
tells you that insufferable rot about being practical
and discarding sentiment, is not the man you would
choose as a friend. He would nt stand by you ir
a pinch, and when we come to the reality, it is onlj
the man who believes in such a thing as honor thai
is worth anything. So stick to it, my boy, and keep
it bright. Carry it down into the small affairs of
school and college.

If you are enough of a man to be a good athlete,
and some one asks you to use that athletic ability
upon their behalf, don't take money for it, or any-
thing that amounts to pay. If you are on the school
team or nine and go into training, don't break faith
with your captain, yourself, and your fellows by sur-
reptitious indulgences. This does n't mean that if
you see some other fellow smoke on the sly you are
obliged to tell of it, nor does it mean that you must
call him to account, unless you are the captain. If
his standard is not so high as yours, that is his

4 WALTEB camp's BOOK OF COLL^'OE SPOBTS

misfortune. If he asks your opinion, give it to him,
if you like, but not in such a way as to leave the
impression that you are put out by your own long-
ing for a similar indulgence. If you are the captain
and you find a man breaking training in spite of
your orders, and you consider it advisable to put
him off, don't be afraid to do it. Gentlemen are
not cowards, mentally or physically.

If a man comes to you and endeavors to affect
your choice of a college by offers of a pecuniary
nature, he does not take you for a gentleman or a
gentleman's son, you may be sure. Gentlemen nei-
ther offer nor take bribes.

Now, my young college friend, it is your turn.
Remember it is upon you that the eyes of the pre-
paratory school-boy are fixed, it is toward you that
the younger brother looks for example, and whatever
you do in your four years' course, you will see mag-
nified by the boys who come after you. Support
your class and your college in every way compatible
with your position. Gentlemen are not stingy, nor
are they selfish. Play if you can and your class or
college needs you. Pay if you can afford it, but
do not allow a false pride to lead you into subscrip-
tions beyond your means. Don't be ashamed of en-
thusiasm. A man without it is a man without a
purpose.

I remember a little incident of my own college
course. I was a freshman, and knew almost no one
in college except a certain junior. I had entered in
two events in the fall athletic games, one a quarter
mile, the other a hurdle race. I had run the quar-

INTBODUCnON 5

ter and been beaten, although I finished second. My
opponents had all been upper classmen, and received
no little encouragement from their friends. I felt
very lonely and disgusted with myself and life in
general when I got on the mark for the hurdle. I
had but two competitors, and both had been cheered
when they came to the scratch. Suddenly as we
were getting on our marks I heard a voice half-way
down the course call out, "You can do 'em,^ and I
saw my junior friend waving his hat to me. It was
not a classical remark, but it made me feel better.
I was clumsy in getting off, and when we came to
the sixth hurdle was nearly five yards behind the
other two, but from that time on I could hear my
friend roaring out, "Go in!'' "You Ve got 'em yet!"
" Now you 're over," as I went up each flight. I did
finish first, and I had hardly touched the tape before
he was patting me on the back. I don't suppose it
cost him much to yell for a poor freshman, but I
know that I always thought of him as one of the
best fellows I ever knew, and in after years I have
remembered enough of the feeling that was in my
heart toward him, to go out and try to make some
others feel that even a freshman has friends.

Apropos of this, a word to non-contestants. In a
boat-race or a foot-ball match the chances are that
your own men will not hear your cheer, but the men
who may try for the team or crew the next season
do, and they are encouraged to better efforts by it.
Now about the treatment of your rivals. A gentle-
man is courteous. It is not courtesy upon a ball-
field to cheer an error of the opponents. If it is

K f WJiLTZh CJUCf^H BOOE OF COIXEGE SFOEIS

u^fU y^ntr own girmndi^ it is the worst kind of boor-
inhuhtm. Moreover, if there are remarkable plays
rna/J^ by your rirak you yourselves should cheer;
fvifWA^X any chagrin you may feel at the loss it may
\9t'. t/i your uirle, but be courteous to appreciate and
applaud an exc^;ptional play by the opponents.

Aft^^r winning; a race or a match, there is no reason
why a Wf(H\^ fHjalthy lot of young men should not do
pl<5nty of chfM^ring, but there is every reason why they
Mhould not make their enjoyment depend upon in-
sulting i\um^ who have lost You cannot take your
hilarity off intr> a comer and choke it to death, and
no oni5 wants you to ; but gratuitous jibes and jeers
at th(9 croHtfallcn mark you as a man who does not
know how to boar a victory, a man whose pate is
addind by the excitement or whose bringing up has
boon at fault.

Kinaiiy, to non-contestants, I want to say a word
rogarding " <?olobrating.'' Primarily, do not, I beg
of you, do anything because it looks smart. Enjoy
yourHolvoH, but do not try to "show off.'' Don't be
"tough." A little unusual hilarity, a tendency to
boliovo tluit ovorythiug is expressly for the collegian,
nan b<^ upon those occasions overlooked and forgiven,
but \)K\ vxnvXy to approciato the point beyond which
it. in tMirriini too far; bo ready to apologize quickly
and iuHtnutly whoro offense is taken. Show that be-
hitul tlu^ jolly fun there is the instinct and cultiva-
tion of a giMit Ionian's son, and that the ebullition of
oulhuHioHuu although it may be a l>ore to those who
fail to kindlo at it^ has nothing of the vicious ele-
mont, and is thoroxighly innooont of intentional of-

INTKODUCTION 7

fense to any one. If you find you are losing your
head, go home ; you will not be sorry for it.

Now for the contestants. I wish I could impress
indelibly upon your minds the fact that with you
rests the most enduring standard for amateur sports.
With no disrespect to any class or condition — with
the best regard for all strong legislation in outside
athletic bodies — I say that the collegian's standard
of purity in his sports should be the highest. The
very fact of having the leisure to devote four years
to a higher education, should be taken to involve
the duty of acquiring a keener perception of right
and wrong in matters where right and wrong depend
upon a delicacy of honor. Gentlemen do not cheat,
nor do they deceive themselves as to what cheating
is. If you are elected the captain of a nine, team,
or crew, read over your rules, and note exactly who
are allowed as contestants by those rules, not by the
custom of some predecessor, not by what you think
some rival will do, but by the rules themselves.
Having done that, never let a thought enter your
head of making use of any man not clearly and
cleanly eligible. You will save yourself many a
future worry if you start fairly by looking into the
record of every candidate at the outset. It is your
duty to know that every one of your men is straight
and square. I know what I am talking about when
I say that a college captain can, in ninety-nine cases
out of a hundred, become possessed of the exact truth
regarding any man he thinks of trying. Don't inves-
tigate to see how much your opponent could prove,
but investigate for your own satisfaction. In legis-

8 WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

lating, remember that what a gentleman wants is fair
play and the best man to win. When it is possible,
without losing sight of this, to legislate for improve-
ments in method, so much the better; but primarily
make every rule such that the probability of unfin-
ished, drawn, or disputed contests is reduced to a
minimum.

What if, at the time, your side may be the weaker?
Don't be a coward on that account. Face it like a
man, and say with your whole heart that you are on
the side of the men who want no chance of retreat
or escape, only a fair contei^t and certain victory or
defeat at the end of it. To what do all the techni-
calities amount when compared with the sincerity
of men who come together to effect that result?
When the delegates earnestly desii*e rules that shall
insure such a contest and such an issue, their work
is more than half done. Don't take the coward's part
and try to legislate means of avoiding the issue.

Perhaps if you, sir, the father of these boys, have
had patience to listen thus far to me, you will allow
me to put in a word for the love they bear these
sports and the pride they take in their school and
college. Talk with them about these interests. You
will lose no dignity by it, and you will gain a con-
fidence from them worth having. When you see
anything in their speech or conduct that betokens
a lowering of the high ideal of gentlemanliness, don't
hesitate to say so. You don't want your boy " hired '^
by any one. If he plays, he plays as a gentleman,
and not as a professional; he plays for victory, not
for money ; and whatever bruises he may have in the

INTBODDCnON

fleshy his heart is right, and he can look you in the
eye as a gentleman should.

'^Be each, pray God, a gentleman!"

So intimate are the relations now existing between
the athletic development of the preparatory school
and that of the college or university that neither can
be independent of the other. The 'varsity captain
looks for his future material among the athletes of
the preparatory school, and the school captain studies
the manner and method of the 'varsities for sugges-
tions that will enable his team, crew, or nine to wrest
a victory from his rival school. In this book I have
endeavored to give as far as possible the detailed
work in each sport, because from the many inquiries
that come, both from school and college, it is easy
to see that something like practical coaching may
be acceptable, even though it be only in print. Of
course the member of the 'varsity will, if he look
through the book, find many things that are to him
an old story, but I know that many of us who now
have been through the mill, would have read most
eagerly a description of how the Varsity was trained,
and when we were school-boys would have saved our-
selves many an error by knowing more of the detail
observed in such training. Many a man comes to col-
lege or enters the upper class in a preparatory school
fresh from home, with no experience of school or col-
lege life. Not infrequently such a man has in him a
taste for athletics, which has had but a small chance
of development. He wants to go in for the sports, but
hesitates to ask the detail from his fellows lest they

10 WALTEB camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

think him stupid. It is with this in mind that I
have tried to take up the matter at the very begin-
ning, SO that any man or boy can organize a nine,
crew, or team, and properly equipping that set of
athletes, finally place them in the contest well drilled
and disciplined to do themselves and him credit. I
have seen, both in school and college, men well fitted
in disposition and character for the position of cap-
tain, men of excellent executive ability^ who were
impossible as candidates for that honor simply be-
cause they did not know the detail of the work
requu-ed. I have seen many a man whose chances
of "getting on'' were small, who could have been
sure of a place had he known in the beginning how
to go to work to fit himself. Neither captain nor
player who is to become thoroughly successful ever
neglects the trivial detail, and although those who
watch and applaud the victory see only the final
results, the captain and player can tell of long hours
spent in mastering what seemed a very insignificant
part of the early work. The plan of this book is
fashioned after a device which served to give many
a victory to one of our largest colleges, and which
if adopted at any school or college is sure to bring
about good results. The method was to keep a
book, in which either the captain or coach entered
a record of the practice, transcribing as accurately
as possible the daily work of the men; the improve-
ment under cei'tain conditions; any falling back, and
the apparent reasons for it — in fact, telling through
the pages of the diary, as it were, everything he
knew regarding the progress each day. This book

INTBODUCTION 11

was kept up, and each year the former year's record
was studied and additions made; and, as I have heard
captains and coaches frequently remark, there were in
its pages a constant reminder of little points which
without it would have been lost sight of, but which
with it were kept fresh in the mind of each succeed-
ing leader. In a similar fashion, there will be many
apparently insignificant details mentioned and dwelt
on in this book of college sports, which perhaps
every captain knows and recognizes when he sees
them in print as an old story, but which are on
that very account so easily forgotten as to make it
worth while to read them at least once a season.

TRACK ATHLETICS

ENGLAND has been in advance of ns in track
athletics, as in many other branches of sports,
having long ago learned the advantages of all out-
door exercises. But Americans are already realizing
that the imf ailing laws of nature demand more at-
tention to the physical welfare of the body, and
base-ball, foot-ball, and boating have done much for
us; but track athletics offer a wider field, as they
give more opportunity for individual endeavor, and
demand nothing of that team work or united exer-
cise which must always place something of a limit
upon the universal enjoyment of and participation
in the other sports.

The professional side offers but little of interest
to us beyond the records. The reason for this is
that, in America at least, professional running is, I
like professional sculling, under a heavy cloud of /
questionable practices in the way of buying and seU-
ing races. Certain of the more recent additions to
the professional ranks are men of better character,
and men whose conduct may eventually tell favor-
ably toward an increase of interest in professional
running.

The amateur ranks, however, offer a very different
phase of the subject. Two classes may be at once

14 WALTER gamp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

selected; not because they are actually distinct, but
because their growth has been different, and because
the conditions under which they exist must always
differ considerably. These two classes are college
athletes and other amateurs. College athletes are
competing more and more in the general amateur
meetings, and from these competitions deriving ex-
cellent practice.

Of English universities Oxford was the first to
possess an organized athletic club. This was almost fifty
years ago, and in a few years Cambridge followed,
for a time even taking the lead in the number of
organizations. Fourteen years later the first inter-
university contests were held between these two at
the cricket grounds of Christ Church. Ten years
later American colleges held their first intercollegiate
contest at Saratoga. This American meeting was,
however, only a sort of side-show to the intercollegi-
ate boat-racing of that date. The incentive of these
contests, nevertheless, brought about the formation
of athletic associations at both Harvard and Yale,
Harvard's organization antedating Tale's by a few
months. The Intercollegiate Association was not
formed until college sports had been in progress for
some three yeara. Then in 1876 the Intercollegiate
Association of American Athletes of America was
organized. The same year the New York Athletic
Club gave an annual meeting for the decision of
the amateur athletic championship of America. The
year 1876, then, may be taken as the date when
organization was first firmly established in both col-
lege and amateur clubs. The necessity for such

TRACK ATHLETICS 16

organization was the rapid increase in interest and
the number of the contesting clubs. This was
most marked in the college meetings, for in 1873
only three colleges competed, in 1874 eight, and in
1875 thirteen. The year after organization only six
colleges competed, but since then the number has
never been below nine, and ten years from the date
of the formation of the Intercollegiate Association
there were fifteen colleges represented by contes-
tants. The number of events, which in 1873 was
one, increased in the following year to five, and was
twelve when the organization was formed. These
events have been altered somewhat since that time,
and the number is at present thirteen.

The various games which are generally classed
under the term "track athletics" are walking, run-
ning, jumping, bicycling, pole-vaulting, throwing of
weights. Of these, running occupies the first place
in point of public interest. The very idea of a race
between two men stimulates interest at' once, and to
watch a close contest between trained runners is
pleasant, even to those uninitiated in the mysteries
of the track.

The fastest running thus far done by any amatem*
for one hundred yards from a standstill is nine and
three quarter seconds. Amateur runners have been
coming up to the ten-second limit occasionally ever
since 1868, but not one had passed it until within
the nineties. In that twenty-odd years some eight
American amateurs and an equal number of English-
men have dashed down the track in the even time
of ten seconds, while hundreds have run the course

16 WALTEB camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

in the next fraction of a second. This record was
made first in London in 1868.

A story was once written of a man who traveled
many a mile to attend performances of a lion-tamer.
He was possessed of the insane desire to see the man
eaten by the wild beasts, and eventually his passion
was gratified. There is a similar feeling of expecta-
tion in the minds of most of the enthusiasts who
attend the amateur meetings of track athletes. Some
time a record will be broken, and it is always a story
worth the telling if one has seen it done. Naturally,
the fifth of a second by which this new champion
dashes into prominence will not be appreciable to
the eye of the best of judges. Just the slightest
movement less of the fine split second-hand on the
watches of the timers, and some man's name is ad-
ded to the list of record-breakers. When one thinks
that these sprinters, as they are called, go at the rate
of thirty feet a second, he realizes something of the
meaning of the term " dash ^ as applied to the short-
distance races. Nor are the longer distances with-
out especial interest, each in its own way. From a
quarter of a mile down the races are run at the top
of a man^s speed, but the half-mile, mile, and above
require the husbanding of strength and proper put-
ting forth of just enough to run out the entire
distance at the best uniform speed. The walking
requires a rather more accurate idea of the rules
to make it of the most interest to the average spec-
tator, who fails to feel that the walkers are putting
forth their best endeavors because they do not run.
This feeling is but human, and it often seems to

TRACK ATHLETICS 17

take possession of the contestants themselves, as one
may see from the occasional warnings given by the
judge. Walking contests have been waning.

The other features of track athletics are not brought
so prominently before the public as are the running
races, but no one can fail to find a keen enjoyment
in each when once or twice he has been a spectator of
the contests. There is no better way to acquaint the
reader with these various events than to answer in de-
tail the questions which one might ask who for the
first time attends one of these field meetings. The
very heading in the newspaper, speaking of the men
as the "Athletes of the Cinder Path,'' provokes a ques-
tion. They come by this designation legitimately, and
on account of the peculiar construction of the track
upon which they run. This track is a scientific affair,
and not a mere stretch of black dirt. It is made of six
inches of the most approved constituents, carefully
laid, and occupies months in its construction.

First the ground is accurately surveyed and meas-
ured, and the track so marked out that the required
distance is given. The best tracks have straight sides,
while the ends are upon moderate curves, either cir-
cular, elliptical, or parabolic, there being considerable
difference of opinion regarding the respective merits
of these curves. This distance is measured just eigh-
teen inches from the inner edge, in order that the run-
ner may have room to run freely, and yet not be
obliged to traverse more than the correct distance.
When the track is thus mappe<l out the proposed space
is excavated to the depth of six inches, and curbings
of seasoned lumber, an inch thick and eight inches

18 WALTEE camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

wide, are set up around both inner and outer edge.
Then the first layer, consisting of four inches of ordi-
nary rough ashes freed from the coarser lumps, is de-
posited for a foundation. This layer is carefully raked
and leveled, and then covered with two inches of loam.
This loam in turn is carefully picked over and all
small stones taken out. It is then rolled and watered
frequently, usually for some weeks, but occasionally
for two or three months, in order to have it thoroughly
firm and hard. Finally the top layer, of cinders, is
put on. This should be just sufficient thoroughly to
cover the loam in eveiy spot. The track is then com-
plete, but it requires the constant care and attention
of an experienced man to see that it is kept in condi-
tion. The object of all this is to give the runners a
firm, dry, and elastic surface upon which to make their
best efforts successfully.

One of the first things on the progi'amme of events
received on entry to the grounds is a summary of rec-
ords. This plainly means the best time or distance, as
the case may be, by which the contest has been won
at any preceding meeting. But records have become
things of nicety, and it requires certain conditions to
make them of value.

A professional runner named Seward was at one
time accredited with running one hundred yards in
nine and a quarter seconds. From the time when be-
lief in that record was exploded down to the present
day there have been many discussions relative to tim-
ing. The English are partial to a single watch in the
hands of an experienced timer ; but to make a record
in this country requires the presence of three timers or

TBACK ATHLETICS 19

measurers, and two of these must agree or the inter-
mediate one of the three be taken as the correct one.
These timers and measurers, together with the other
officials of the meeting, may be distinguished by the
various ribbons which they wear. In this respect track
athletics differ considerably from either base-ball or
foot-ball. Two officials on the field suffice in these
sports, but on the track there are nearly a score. First
there is the referee, who decides all questions in dis-
pute which are not otherwise covered by the rules, and
who has power to disqualify a competitor. Then there
are two or more assistants to the referee, who are called
clerks, and who act as witnesses before him in case of
fouls. There are three judges at the finish, who deter-
mine the order in which the contestants finish. Three
other judges are called field judges ; these measure and
tally the trials of competitors in jumps, pole-vaults,
and weight competition. There are three time-keep-
ers, who take the time in the events requiring it. There
is a clerk of the couree, who notifies the contestants to
appear at the starting-time, and assigns them their po-
sitions. There is one starter, who assumes control of
the competitors after the clerk has placed them in their
positions, and who, either by word or by pistol-report,
starts each race, and whose duty it is to set back any
contestant making a false start. There may be a judge
of walking, who determines the fairness or unfairness
of the walking, and warns or disqualifies any contes-
tant guilty of adopting an unfair gait. There is one
scorer, who records the order in which contestants fin-
ish, as well as their time. Finally, there is one mar-
shal, who has police charge of the inclosure. There is

20 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OP OOLLEaU SPORTS

occasionally an official reporter, who announces the
record of each event. Any number of assistants may
be given to such officers as the judge of walking, clerk
of the course, scorer, and marshal All these officials
are necessary to the caref \ct«^ io he events and
to the accurate recording o. tftO^

As the first array of co-^^estan^s in the 100-yard run
come up to the starting- k)^ d wue clerk of the

course assigns them their pooxt^ns, one is struck by
the difference of build among them. Tall and short,
light and heavy, there are few men who are prevented
by physical make-up from competition in one of these
dashes. Brooks at 170 pounds, and Myers at 110
pounds, made one of the prettiest 220-yard contests
ever seen in America, and both could run a fast 100.
In this 100-yard race one of the chief points to be mas-
tered is the start. How to get off quickly is the prob-
lem, for a fifth of a second means five feet of ground.
They are on the mark, and the starter stands behind
them where they cannot see his movements nor the
flash of his pistol. "Are you ready f* "Set!'' An
instaut, and at the crack of the pistol down they come,
and almost before an inexperienced man can select his
favorite from the rush, they breast the tape which is
held across the finish-line, and the race is over. No-
thing is prettier in any race than the running up out
of the crowd of a fast sprinter who is too good for his
companions, but who has perhaps lost a fraction at
the start. There is none of the gradual cutting down
of competitors such as one sees in the longer distances
— just a mad dash for the front, as it seems ; and yet
when one comes to analyze it, to know the training

TRACK ATHLETICS

gone through to got that stride, he begins to realize
that it is by no means what it appears at the first

glance, almost a matter of luck. The start, too, re-
quires weeks of practice, and one might almost say

cflH^

22 WALTER CXSK BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

years of experience. If an ordinary spectator were to
watch the start of an experienced sprinter against a
novice, he would almost invariably suspect collusion
of some kind between the starter and the sprinter.
More than this, he would think that the experienced
man got off considerably more ahead of the novice
than he really did ; for the sprinter gains not only in
leaving the mark, but in getting instantly up into his
stride, whereas the novice is not fairly under way for
several feet after he has actually left the mark. The
rules regarding unfair starting are necessarily strict,
on account of this great advantage to be gained. In
all short races, those up to 300 yards, the penalty for a
false start is to be put back one yard. It is greater in
the longer races. Two yards is the penalty in races up
to 600 yards, three yards in races up to 1000 yards,
five yards in races up to a mile, and ten yards in those
over a mile. In all races a third false start disquali-
fies the competitor; and any attempt to advance ahead
of his mark after the words "Are you ready?" is met
with immediate disqualification.

The 220-yard race is similar to the 100 in all respects.
The contestants belong to the sprinter class, and go at
high speed the entire distance.

With the 440-yard, or quarter-mile, one sees the first
signs of grief in those whose condition is not of the
best, or who cannot hold out for the entire distance.
It is at this distance that the runner shows that he is
not a machine. The best illustration of this is found
in the records of the events. The speed of a runner at
his best, as shown in the 100-yard race, is ten yards a
second. This speed he holds with machine-like pre-

TRACK AT]

cision in the 220-yard race, the record being be-
tween 21 and 22 seconds. When the 440-yard race is
reached, however, he cannot gather the power neces-
sary to finish in 44 seconds, but at this distance we
find the best man nearly 4 seconds behind time. The
quarter-mile has more in common with the sprint run-
ner than the distance man, however, for the sensation
is that of running at full speed the entire distance, ra-
ther than by a perceptible effort so husbanding power
as to make the pace a steady one, which is the feeling
of, for example, the mile runner. The distance runners
appear to run easily all the way, and to the spectator
it seems that they might go faster if they would make
the effort ; but where the sprinter would have run him-
self out, and would begin to go unsteadily and mani-
festly with an effort, the distance man is still springing
easily over the ground, apparently with no thought of
fatigue, but rather with a consciousness of strength.

Hurdle-racing is
a sport which stands
between running and
jumping, being a
combination of the
two. It does not
require a man of
marked jumping
ability, however, as
the flights are only
3 feet 6 inches, and
any average athlete,
although he may have paid no attention to jumping,
finds no difficulty in clearing them. The point, in

TAKING THB I1URDLK8.

24 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

fact, at which the hurdler aims is to clear them just
as little as possible, skimming over the tops so closely
that he almost grazes each. In the early days of
hurdling the runner ran as fast as he could between
each flight, and with no definite number of steps
took the hurdles as he might obstructions thrown
in his pathway at haphazard. The scientific hurdler
now takes a certain number of steps between the flights,
and, fetching each at the most favorable point for his
rise, actually clears them without a break in his stride,
one leg being put out while the other is bent just as
though it were but an exaggerated step. The distance
covered is 120 yards, and there are ten hurdles set 10
yards apart with a J.5-yard clear start and finish. Other
distances are sometimes run, as 220 yards most com-
monly. In this case the hurdles are a foot lower, and
are set 20 yards apart. The amateur record for the
120-yard hurdle race is 15f seconds. This shows that
the runner loses almost half a second at each one of
the obstacles in his course.

The walkers next attract our attention. To the
ordinary pedestrian who tramps out for twenty or
thirty miles into the country the gait of these racers
is entirely unfamiliar. There seems the most in-
tense exaggeration of eveiy muscular movement.
Watch this man who walks a mile in seven minutes !
It certainly seems as if he would twist his spinal
column apart just above his hips. But if one at-
tempts to walk alongside of him, one soon realizes
with what rapidity he covers the ground, iliven a
modest trot will not keep one even with him.
Roughly speaking, it takes only a little over two

TBACK ATHLETICS 25

minutes longer to walk than to run a mile. The
distinction between running and walking is, that in
the latter the heel strikes the ground first, and some
part of one foot is always touching the ground,
whereas in running the toe strikes first, and there
is a period in the stride when both the runner's feet
are off the ground. It requires the most expert of
judges to see that the walking is fair, for there are
a dozen tricks of gait, not in the least apparent to
the uninitiated, which are unfair. Perhaps none is
more common than what to us would seem the faint-
est suspicion of a limp, by which means the failure
to straighten the leg at each step, thus not striking
the heel first, from which an unfair walker can gain
a very marked increase in speed. Long-distance
pedestrianism, such as six-day walking-matches, has
nothing in common with the walking of the short-
distance cinder-track men. Most of these long-
distance matches are now of the go-as-you-please
class; that is, there is no restriction as to the
gait, the majority taking to a kind of jog-trot,
which yields the greatest results with the least
fatigue.

To watch the jumping is rather a relief after the
strain of sympathetic effort one feels inclined involun-
tarily to make when the walkers are exerting every par-
ticle of power to pass each other. The contestants jump
in turns, and in the case of a long or a broad jump the
greatest distance covered in three attempts wins the
event. The best or leading men then have three more
trials. The run is unlimited, each man suiting his own
taste in the matter. The scratch or line from which the

26 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

jump is taken is a joist, some five inches wide, sunk
flush with the ground. Just in front of this the earth
is removed to the depth of three inches from a space
of six inches, and the rule regarding the jump is that
it counts a trial with no result if a competitor step

over the scratch line, or if he
make any mark on the ground
in front of the scratch. The
measuring i^ done at right angles
to the scratch line and to the
nearest mark made by any part of the person of the
competitor.

The high jump is made over a flat bar, which is
supported on two uprights in such a position as
to be easily dislodged. Competition begins at some
height, selected by the measurers, which all the con-
testants can easily clear. The bar is then steadily
lifted at the regulation of the measurers. A com-
petitor may decline to use his jump at any height
in his turn, but by so doing forfeits his right to jump
again at that height. Three trials are allowed, and

TBACK ATHLETICS

if on the third the jumper fails to clear the bar he
drops out. The removal of the bar constitutes a
failure. To run under the bar is a balk, and three
of these successive balks constitute a trial jump. A
fair jump is one made without the assistance of

weights, diving, somersaults, or
handsprings of any kind.

Pole-vaulting is another species
of jumping, in which the jumper
aids himself by the use of a long pole which he
plants in the ground a little distance from the bar,
and with which he lifts himself as he springs into
the air. As the pole is reaching the perpendicular
he swings himself over the bar, letting go the pole
at the same moment. The same rule governs the
pole-vault as the running high jump, and there is no
limit to the size or weight of the poles.

Putting the shot is a contest requiring not only the
same amount of skill as the other events, but also
unusual muscular strength. The shot is an iron

28 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

sphere, weighing either sixteen pounds or twenty-
four pounds, the more usual weight being sixteen
pounds. It must be put with one hand only, and
in front of the shoulder. The competitor stands
in a limited space, and must not step out of this

space in putting, nor until his
put has been measured. The front
side of the space has a board
standing four inches high, and
no part of the competitor's person
must be on this board in making
the attempt. Puts are measured in a line at right
angles from the front line of the space, or that line
prolonged, to the nearest mark made by the shot.
Three trials are allowed, and the contestants take
turns as in the broad jump.

Throwing the hammer, like putting the shot, re-
quires a combination of skill and muscular strength.
The hammer is a metal sphere attached to a wire
handle, the projecting length of which, together with
the diameter of the head, is four feet, the combined

TBACE ATHLETICS

weight of head and handle being sixteen pounds.
The throwing is done from a certain limited circular
space, and the competitor may not overstep the
front of this space until his throw is measured.
The throw is measured from the nearest mark made
by the hammer-head to the circumference of the circle
on a line with that mark and the center of the circle.
In throwing the hammer under the Amateur Athletic
Union rules there are no further restrictions as to the
man^s method, but it is usual to swing the hammer at the
extended length of
the arms, turning
the body two or
three times and then
to let it go over the
shoulder. Other

contests in weight- -
putting and ham-
mer-throwing are in
dulged in, but these are
the most common in the
programmes in this country-
Bicycling has grown to be so
wide-spread that it has a life,
ords quite apart from ordinar>^
There is one feature of these
mentioned, but which forms an
in the interest and progress of the games. This is
what is known as handicapping. Were it not for this
many a meeting would lose much of its interest, and
imdoubtedly it stimulates to the improvement in gen-
eral ability much more than would only level racing.

VAULT wo TBB
BA& AT TRH

FEETT SIX IMCHSa^

common and

rules, and rec-
track athletics.
sports not yet
important element

30 WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

As the teiiu implies, handi-
capping is the taking away
certain of the advantages of
the superior men, and so ap*
ranging the acknowledged su-
perior contestants that they
must not only do better than
the rest in order to win, but
do enough better to make it
a fair struggle on both sidea
Sometimes a time allowance
is made to the weaker men;
more often, as in running-
sHoivPDTTwiiiAi^ciHa. matches, the best man is

started from the scratch and is obliged, therefore, to
run the full distance, whereas his competitors are
placed at certain intervals ahead of him, these dis-
tances being proportioned to
their relative ability as dis-
played by the records they
have already made. In order
that this system of handicap-
ping may be properly carried
out, it is, of course, neces-
sary that the handicapper
be not only thoroughly fa-
miliar with the usual speed
developed in all the various
races, but also that he keep
accurate tables of the records
of each one of the runners
whom he must place. Even putting thb shot.

TRACK ATHLETICS

PUTTING THE SHOT.

then, unless he be possessed
of excellent judgment, he
makes occasional mistakes
that result in unsatisfactory
races. The Amateur Ath-
letic Union, which at pres-
ent embraces the majority
of prominent clubs, employs
an oflScial handicapper,
whose duty it is, upon re-
ceipt of the names of con-
testants, to map out from
his table of records the
proper handicaps for the
entries in each race. The rules of the A. A. U. provide
for this official handicapper. He is expected to keep
records and to handicap all entries as directed by
the secretary of the Union, also
to do other work such as the
board of managers may direct.
There are a few pertinent
questions that arise, to which
a review of the annual ama-
teur championship meetings
affords more or less satis-
factory answers. The ques-
tion of the age at which a man
is fitted for his best athletic
work has always been a moot-
ed one in all sports. In the
games belonging particularly
to track athletics the record shot-iiitter. left view.

WALTER camp's BOOK OP COLLEGE 8P0BTS.

of events shows that maturity is
most needed in the events requiring
unusual muscular development, such
as weight-putting contests and ham-
mer-throwing, while the extreme of
youth seems no detriment to the
running contests, jumping, and pole-
vaulting. Hammer-throwing and
weight-putting championships have
been won by men over forty years
of age, while boys of eighteen years
have t^en 100-yard, mile, jumping,
and pole-vaulting championships.
W. B. Curtis has shown the most
mature development by winning
championships at
the age of 40, 41, 42,
43, and 44 yearB,
The longest continuous connection
with track athletic sports has been
that of C. A. J. Queckbemer, who
has competed in twelve successive
years, ever since 1878, winning one
or more championships at nine meet*
ings. L. E. Myers, whose career is
noted later in this article, and L.
F. Lambrecht, both held a champion-
ship against all competition for
six successive annual contests.
The entries for these an-
nual championship meet-

ings have ranged from 100 the nAMmcR-THKowBR-THu wakt.

BWUiOINO THK IlUf-

TRACK ATHLETICS.

150, once even as high as 169. As a rule, four
ths of those entering start in the events. The
adency to go from the ranks of the amateui' into
ofessionalism was much more marked in the earlier
ys of these meetings. The first annual champion-

j^^^'^"-"'^

\kyf.

c A

THB BICYCLB.

n*s MoTcle; "b, Uindem bicycle ; e, woman's bicycle; d, sprocket-wheel with

M-orank shaft.

Ip meeting, in 1876, had on its programme the f oUow-
5 events : 100-yard, quarter-mile, half-mile, one-mile
ns; 120-yard hurdle race; one-, tliree-, and seven-
le walks; running high jump; running long jump;
rowing hammer; and putting the shot. The rules of
9 A. A. U. in 1890 gave events as follows : 100-yard,
0-yard, 440-yard, 880-yard, one-mile, and five-mile
ns, one-mile and three-mile walks, two-mile bicycle

34 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

race, pole-vault, running high jump, running broad
jump, throwing 16-pound hammer, throwing 36-pound
weight, putting 16-pound shot, 120-yard hurdle race,
220-yard hurdle race, individual tug of war, and team
tug of war — a total of nineteen. The seven-mile and
other walks are the only events that have been abso-
lutely lost, while some have been added.

Some of the contests of American athletes have
stirred the enthusiastic spirit of more than the mere
spectators. No one can read the story of one of his
own countrymen contending against a foreigner, and
showing pluck and skill enough to win, without a se-
cret satisfaction. The performances of one amateur
of our day are so remarkable as to be worthy of chron-
icling. That man is L. E. Myers, who later joined
the ranks of professional runners; but who, while
strictly an amateur, lowered more records, and ran
away from more really good runners, than any other
man ever upon the cinder track. His first appearance
was at the games of the New- York Athletic Club, elec-
tion day, November, 1878. He was given a start of 18
yards in the quarter-mile race, and won in 55 seconds.
The next spring we find him in the games of the Sta-
ten Island Athletic Club, where he won the quarter-
mile in 54 seconds. From this time on he attacked
records and men, and mowed them down steadily. In
1880 he won four American and four Canadian cham-
pionships. It was then decided to send him to Eng-
land, where they had little faith in the genuineness of
his records, and predicted that their second-rate men
would run the American oflE his feet. Previous to his
first appearance. Englishmen interested in track ath-

TBAGK ATHLETICS 35

letics laughed at the possibility of his winning. With
many runners the time when much is expected of them
is very apt to be the occasion when they appear at
their worst. Myers, however, never displayed this un-
fortunate trait, and his first English race was a grand
triumph. Not only did he win by a clean eleven yards,
but he broke the English record. From that time on
he ran on every kind of track, through fields of all
sorts of men, was placed at scratch with what appeared
at least a line of men stationed all the way down the
course, and yet the summary of nearly every race was
the legend, " Myers romped in an easy winner."

It is needless to say that the Englishmen became
thoroughly satisfied with the genuineness of his rec-
ords. In 1884 he again visited England, and lowered
three records. The following year he crossed once
more to meet the best of England's men on various
tracks. Two of these meetings were notable. At the
Civil Service sports he was entered in a handicap quar-
ter when Cowie, the English champion, was given eight
yards' start. Myers ran him down and won in 48|^
seconds. A month and a half later, having in the
mean time won many races, he was entered at Black-
bum in two handicaps, and after winning the half-
mile he ran the final heat of the quarter, giving Barton,
of Scotland, 20 yards. Snook and others were given
good starts in this, and it was generally believed that
for once the American was to be defeated. Myers
picked them all up, and won over a grass course in
49f seconds.

A half-mile race of Myers at Widnes shows the cali-
ber of the man. As we have it on the authority of an

36 WALTEB CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

English journal of that date, Myers entered this par-
ticular half-mile handicap to beat a local man who had
been freely boasting that the American could not give
him 35 yards at that distance. Myers had just beaten
Cowie again in the quarter, also Snook and others in
the level half. But one great feature of Myerses run-
ning has always been his wonderful ability to keep on
running race after race as long as there was any one
before him, and he stepped up to the scratch in the
handicap half as ready as ever. One by one he ran
through his field, and 30 yards from home had them
all behind him, coming in with an easy 8-yard lead in
1 minute 57f seconds. As the English journal took
occasion to remark of the local runner^s impression
about the 35-yard start, "At five o'clock on Saturday

evening Mr. had quite altered his opinion on the

subject, which only shows what changeable mortals we
all are.'*

The only man who actually ran Myers off his feet
in a burst of speed was Brooks, a college sprinter.
This man had beaten Myers in 1882, but in that race
he had made his lead and kept in front to the end. In
1883, however, Myers had the pole, and when the two
entered the straight with 90 yards to go Brooks was
some 3 yards in the rear. The watches of some reli-
able experts say that the collegian ran the 90 yards in
8J seconds. At any rate he gained inch by inch, and
25 yards from the finish was within a yard of Myers.
Then it was that both felt the final struggle, and as
Brooks came up by Myers's side, both men tried for
that impossible speed which is beyond the limit. My-
ers's limit came a shade nearer than that of Brooks, for

TBACK ATHLETICS 37

he fell headlong in the attempt, and Brooks breasted
the tape a winner.

Concerning the financial status of track athletics,
while they do not, like base-ball, have an existence for
the purpose of money-making, there is nevertheless a
large amount of capital involved indirectly. Almost
all of the clubs now prominent in this branch of sports
have a winter existence, games, and habitat as well as
an outdoor one. In most of the large cities there are
athletic clubs which own desirable property. The club-
houses in many instances are as much marvels of com-
fort and luxury as clubs vrtth a different raison cPetre.

One feature of these sports has not yet been men-
tioned, and that is the prizes. These have varied much
from time to time. The firs^ prizej^vpin. in^ English
u niversi tvjpo rts were monev prizes ^ but this practice
was almost immediately altered, and there is now even
a rule forbidding an athlete from pawning his medals
or in any way converting them into money. While
the correct theory for the amateur is that the prize
should be valued and valuable only as a token of the
victory it represents, as a matter of fact it has become
the custom to have the prizes for record-breaking of
more than a merely nominal value. So long as the
present very stringent rules are in force regarding pro-
fessionalism of any kind, there is but little danger of
prizes becoming so gi*eat in value as to induce men to
wish to obtain them with an eye to their marketable
nature.

The progress of track athletics in this country has
been rapid. The extension of the games of the cinder

38 WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

track throughout all large cities marks a different
standing for them than any that they have obtained
in the colleges and universities. There they had to
wage direct warfare with boating and ball, and for a
time the battle was an unequal one. The other sports
were older and had the support of those who had gone
before, while sports of the track were looked upon as
interlopers which would interfere with the more regu-
lar games by directing men to other athletic enjoy-
ment. The day has now come, however, when they
have an assured position at all the large universities
and colleges, while in amateur athletic organizations
track athletics have the first rank, and the other sports
are of but minor interest. Nor is the day far distant
when the audiences that assemble to witness these con-
tests will be equal to those assembled at any amateur
ball-game or boat-race. Moreover, the number of con-
testants is increasing, and that means that more men
are enjoying the benefits of open-air exercise, and by
the help of the pleasant stimulus of contest are being
drawn toward a better physical development.

The matter of training the track athlete at school
and college has become one of careful study and of
even more varied scope than the training of crews,
ball nines, or foot-ball teams. The types of men in
the various events are so markedly dissimilar, and
the kinds of work for which they are to be prepared
so different, that there must be several divisions of
track athletes, and each division enjoy detailed study
and direction toward fitting them for their special
performance. The splinter, or short-distance runner,
although exceptionally a large man, is, as a rule, of

TBACK ATHLETICS 39

a light, nervous, exceedingly active, and high-strung
type. The weight-putter and hammer-thrower, on the
other hand, is generally foimd among the large, heav-
ily built, and rather slow-moving type of extraordi-
nary muscular strength.

The college athletes in training for the games may
be classed as follows : Long-distance runners, middle-
distance runners, sprinters, jumpers and pole-vaulters,
weight-throwers, walkers, and bicycle men. Of these
the long-distance men are trained chiefly to increase
their staying powers. But they are not put through
exactly the same work day after day. They run three
or four miles across coimtry, for instance, two or three
days in the week, and on the alternate days take sharp
three-quarter or half-mile runs. In this way their early
training is directed especially toward " improving their
wind,'' as the expression has it. Later, as the season
opens, they are put on the track and sent at varying
distances, usually half or two thirds of the race for
which they are to be entered. They are taught by run-
ning under the watch to become accurate judges of the
rate at which they are running, in order not to be
tempted to take too fast or too slow a pace by the ef-
forts of some rival's partner or by the honest but ill-
judged attempt of some inexperienced man. About
once a week or once in ten days the runner is put over
his distance on time. The rest of the time he either
takes these half distances or practises short dashes to
increase his ability to spurt.

The sprinters in the early and preliminary weeks
do plenty of walking, broken up by short sprints, and
should have a short section of track — regulation cin-

40 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

der track — conveniently near at hand upon which to
practise starting, for it is upon the ability to get off
the mark quickly that the race may often depend in
these short distances. In practising these starts it is
well for the man to have his regular running-shoes on,
else his practice will amount to but Uttle on account
of the altered conditions. After the season opens at
the track the sprinters practise daily starting under
the pistol, and vary this with short bursts and then
moderate stretches, being very careful not to lapse into
careless running, but making every step clean and
sharp, even though at a slower pace.

The jumpers and pole men go through general train-
ing by long walks and little dashes in order to get into
good condition, but their special practice is sprinting
and that of the take-off. Both spend much time upon
this latter all-important point of their work. Later,
when at work at the field, they take sprinting practice,
and every other day or two or three times a week jump
and vault, taking the day between for easing up by a
run rather than their regular work.

The weight men take runs of one or two miles in the
preliminary weeks, and through the winter use the
chest weights and pulleys besides the heavy dumb-
bells, all of which is directed toward strengthening the
muscles they will use the most. After a time they go
through regular trials with each other, for this sport
particularly requires something of an incentive in the
shape of contest to keep a man steadily improving.
Their work does not differ materially when at the field,
although they are not expected to make their best ef-
fort too often, as they run the same risk of getting

TRACK ATHLETICS 41

stale as that experienced by a pitcher who uses his
arm too much. The walkers were wont to go three
to four miles at a fast pace, pajdng particular atten-
tion to the steady increase of their stride, and, of
course, walking fairly. When in the season they
got on the track, special attention was paid to their
free hip action and the use of the arms. They, too,
practised to acquire a good and accurate knowledge
of pace and practise spurts. Walking has since been
discarded. The bicycle men do road work during the
fall and winter when the weather permits, going eight
or ten miles a day, and then taking body exercise in
the gymnasium. Usually all the candidates for the
athletic team go through a short daily course of gym-
nasium work during the winter. As early as possible
the bicyclists get on the track, and then their practice
consists of daily rides at medium speed, interspersed
with spurts. To them also the acquiring a knowledge
of pace is absolutely necessary, and they make their
weekly trial as well. The winter work of an athletic
team can in these days of excellent gymnasia be made
of great help toward their preparation for the spring.
Felt- or canvas-covered weights enable the weight men
to practise indoors, and the use of mattresses and
boards makes it possible to do the high jump and the
pole-vault. Short sprints are also possible, and even
hurdling. On the track distance races, both running
and walking, can be indulged in, and meetings, called
indoor meetings, are now regularly held every winter.
One of the best methods for the development of new
material is the occasional handicap meeting, either at
home or upon an outside track. At home these meet-

42 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

ings ai'e productive of a friendly rivalry that stimu-
lates men to their best efforts, as well as directing their
attention to the improvement of their faults; and com-
petition in outside meetings gives them that most ne-
cessary experience which is so valuable when the day
of the important contest arrives. Many a first-time
track athlete is afflicted with a sensation exactly simi-
lar to stage-fright, and wholly unable to do himself or
his college justice from this very lack of experience.

Whenever it is possible, an experienced coach should
be employed, for he is even more desirable in track
and field events than in foot-ball or base-ball, although
perhaps in rowing the services of a coach are of equal
value. The men should be worked in squads, and it is
well to have a sub-captain or man in charge of each of
these squads, while the captain himself has full charge
over all. The coach should be a man of thorough
experience, and should spend all his time upon the
coaching of the individuals in their respective lines.

There is one point in which the development of an
athletic team requires far more careful study than that
of any of the other branches. In base-ball, foot-ball,
and boating there is a need of good substitutes, but
they are few compared with the number of the men
making up the first choice. In all track meetings sec-
ond and third and even fourth places count a certain
number of points for the team securing them, and hence
the development of the men who are not perhaps the
most promising is an all-important point for the consid-
eration of captain and coach. A man who wins fourth
place may by that very triumph secure for his college
the cup, and be as much the victor as the member of

TRACK ATHLETICS 43

the nine who scores the winning run or of the team
who makes the touch-down. Moreover, it is in the
development of these second-grade men that a school
or college eventually establishes a fund of material for
first places.

To a school or college about to start an athletic team
a few very brief hints may be valuable. Remember
that the first thing to be done is not to know that you
have some one single star, but to induce as large a
number of men as possible to come out and try for the
team. If a start can be made before the spring and a
number of men persuaded to put themselves into rea-
sonably good condition by gymnasium and general
winter work, so much the better. Then the man who
is chosen captain should, as soon as the weather and
men are in condition for a few trials, make a thorough
test of his candidates. Here let me say that one of the
best captains of a university track athletic team once
said to me : " No man knows what he can do in track
athletics imtil he tries, and I think, almost without ex-
ception, that of all my record-holders not one of them
had ever tried his respective event previous to entering
college.'' It is therefore well to bear in mind this fact,
and by having the men take part in little competitions,
determine what each is likely to do best. Many times
an unexpected star is thus discovered. In track ath-
letics, as in the other sports, it is hard, persistent work
that wins, and the men must have this fact thoroughly
impressed upon them at the outset, in order that no
individual may become discouraged when some vet-
eran runner, jumper, or vaulter beats him. Be careful
to avoid overtraining, however, for it is both more

44 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

common and more serious in this branch than in some
of the others. A man is making individual efforts,
and there is no limit perhaps to his pluck and ambi-
tion, so that without a watchful eye over him he goes
on overexerting himself, and when the time of trial
comes he has no snap or dash, but only a half-hearted
listlessness that numbs his physical and mental quali-
ties. Pluck, or " sand,'' as the average American boy
calls it, is a characteristic of the winners in track
events, as it is of the best men in the other sports:
only in the other sports there are usually comrades
close at hand to help, while on the track a man
must run his own race on his own bottom. He must
grit his teeth, squeeze his corks, and go ahead, even
though he feels that he will drop. The preparation in
the gymnasium will have put the men into some
measure of condition, but work should be gradual
even after that, and it is a cardinal fact worth re-
membering that vitality or energy should never be
exhausted. The best performer is usually the eager
performer.

Candidates for the 100-yard dash should be classed
together, and the light body-exercise they have
taken in the winter, with the occasional short out-
door run, and the starting practice, will have fitted
them for track work. They should be brought up
to their mark and put through the regular form of
"Ready,'' "Gret set," and then the pistol, and all off at
their top speed for twenty or twenty-five yards. They
should always run their distance as though in a race.
Every other day they should be given a 50-yard
instead, and they should do some jogging of 100 or

TRACK ATHLETICS 45

125 yards occasionally, lengthening out as the day of
contest draws near, so that they can go through their
distance at a good clip. In starting there are many
different styles, the crouching and the Sheffield being
perhaps the most favored. In the former the runner
crouches down, touching his fingers to the ground,
one foot on the mark, the other just behind it. In
the latter he stands, bending slightly forward, his body
partly turned, one arm projecting in front and the
other lifted behind, his forward foot on the mark
and the other some inches back.

The 220-yard men practise like the 100-yard men,
with this exception — that the 220 men must acquire
a knowledge of pace which the 100 men do not so
certainly need. A 100-yard man, except in trials,
when he is sure of getting his place, is usually
best instructed to run it out at speed. Turning and
looking behind and slackening up have lost many a
winner his race; and there are men who, in a 100,
when possessed of the notion that they know just
what clip they are going at, will do tricks of this kind.
But in a 220 the runner should know something of
pace as do the longer distance men. The best thing
to say to the sprinters just before the race is what I
heard a captain at the Intercollegiates say one year:
**Now remember that you are running for your col-
lege. Don't leave that mark until the pistol goes, and
then you go too, and as if Death were after you.
Dont turn your head until your chest strikes the
tape!**

For the 440 the practice should be, after the win-
ter breaking in, easy quarters, — sometimes an easy

46 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

half — sometimes a 300; on occasional afternoons,
the 220-yard dashes, — of course with a rest between;
and once a week, a quarter on time. With the in-
creased distance comes that increased value of a
knowledge of pace which the runner must acquire
from daily running under the watch, until he knows
what time he is making. But he must not (any more
than the 220 man) get an idea that he can run the
first part of his race easy and then finish fast. As one
man puts it: "You 've got to run the first 220 as fast
as you can, and then finish on your sand.''

For the 880, after getting on the track, short, sharp
300-yard dashes every few days, then a 660-yard,
every little while quick quarters, — all run under the
watch, to acquire the knowledge of pace. At first a
slow half, or possibly five eighths once in a while,
starting from the mark and running hard for the first
30 or 40 yards. This the 440 men should also do.
When the quarter- and half-milers are going on the
track for the race, the captain should tell them to
follow instructions carefully, using their pace-makers
to the very best of their ability, and not permitting
themselves to be fooled or drawn out by the tactics of
interested opponents. They must not be troubled by
some man rushing past them at first, so long as they
are sure of their own gait. In the 440, if there is any-
body ahead of you, at the 220th yard you must begin
to look to overhauling him, and when at the 400th-
yard mark grit your teeth, squeeze your corks, and get
home as fast as you know how. Of course, in trial
heats of a 440, get your place as easily as you can.

To the 880 men I would say that if at the end

TRACK ATHLETICS 47

of the first quarter anybody who has gone up is still
ahead of you, you must begin to pick him up, and by
the time you reach the 660th-yard mark you ought to
be close behind him, or if he is known to be a fast
finisher you must pass him. Then, when you come
into the stretch, you must fairly fly. These races take
plenty of thinking as one runs ; and keeping cool and
calculating the thing out will win doubtful races many
a time. If you know there is a great runner in your
race, it is often good policy to pick him out and dog
his tracks, unless you feel that he is setting an un-
usual pace pm'posely. If you find him going slow
of your gait, you had better move up rather than let
him keep you back, because he can probably make too
long a burst for you later in the race.

Mile runners take half and three-quarter distances
always under time, and finish fast. In a race they
should stick to their own pace, particularly in the first
quarter; but when they reach the last quarter, it is time
to begin to pick up the leader, and in the stretch run
the last bit out. Mile men should also break out of
the crowd at the start, the same as the 440 and 880
men. It is well to say, also, that all these men should
be kept off the hard sidewalks both in their winter
and other running or walking, as far as possible. It
is not necessary in winter to practise every day, par-
ticularly for preparatory school-boys, who should prac-
tise only three times a week. An occasional day off, at
the discretion of the captain or coach, after track
work has commenced, is not a bad thing either.

Hurdlers should practise their take-off and sprint-
ing, and should negotiate about three hurdles at a

48 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

time in practice. The usual three-step method is pre-
ferred for the high hurdles, and the jump and stride
should be a jump clearing close to fourteen feet, next
step five feet, next six, next five again, then flight.
Of course these steps will vary slightly, but that illus-
trates the principle. When learning this three-step
the novice should place the hurdles suflSciently near
together to enable him to get his stride, then he can
increase the distance as his strength increases until he
reaches the regulation ten yards. In mid-season the
hurdler should occasionally go over six or seven hur-
dles, and three weeks before the race, the full course.
Then again, he should go over that number once ten
days and once the week before. When a hurdler
goes to the mark, it is well to tell him as a parting
injunction not to look around, and never to mind if
he touches or knocks down a flight or misses his
stride ; but to go on and win. Mile walkers practise
fast quarters, with occasional half and three-quarters,
then good jogs of distance. The walkers, together
with the weight-throwers, should have some expert
to teach them at the start the proper motions, as
these cannot be accurately and concisely described in
print without the aid of practical illustration. The
pole-vaulters should have good winter practice upon
the parallel bars; and indoor practice at vaulting is also
simple nowadays. At the field they should practise
sprinting and take-oflf, as should also the jumpers.
American pole-vaulters do not climb their poles — that
is, move the hands up the pole after taking-off, as do
some of the Englishmen; but the motion is a single
one. All jumpers and vaulters should start easily

TRACK ATHLETICS 49

for their run, and then, striking their mark and get-
ting into their stride, go to the take-off with speed and
confidence. They should be told just before going into
the contest to keep cool and not to permit the bar to be
put up any faster than they want it. Broad jumpers
should, in addition to their sprinting and take-off prac-
tice, try getting up well into the air. Sometimes it is
even best to put a string, about a foot and a half high
and twelve or fourteen feet from the take-off, to tempt
them up. Some excellent authorities, however, are
against this plan.

ROWINa

" No boy or man should be all^w " ^o in for school or college
xowmg ontil he can swim.^

THE English universities uaa had many a hard i ?a
contest at the oar before the American iini- { <
versities took up boating. In 1829 Oxford defeats I p
Cambridge ; then no race was rowed until 1836, when j a]
Cambridge turned the tables and won not only that | t1
race, but the next succeeding three. The first college 1 n
boat-club in America was formed at Yale in 1843, and \ ='
in the fall of the next year the Oneida Boat Club was , ^
organized at Harvard. This was a club of juniors, and • *
was followed a few weeks later by the Iris Boat Clul
organized by the seniors. In the spring of 1846 the.
were three boat-clubs at Harvard, which united in build-
ing a boat-house. In 1852 a challenge was received
from Yale, and, upon its acceptance, a race was rowed
at Lake Winipiseogee, August 3d. Harvard won this
race, as also the next one, which was rowed in 1855 at
Springfield. In 1853 there were at Yale six active boat-
clubs, which formed themselves into the Yale Navy, —
although this was not legally incorporated until 1863.
Harvard's clubs by the time of the 1855 race had also
increased in number to five, but it was not until 1869
that the Harvard University Boat Club was formed.
Although the first race, that in 1852, had been rowed

BOWING 51

in eight-oared barges with coxswains, the race in 1855
had two six-oared barges with coxswains entered from
Yale, while Harvard sent one eight-oared barge with
coxswain, and a four-oared lapstreak boat without
coxswain. In 1859 all the entries were six-oared boats,
although the rigging differed as well as the style of
boats. Six-oared boats w^T:e adhered to throughout the
number of years of the incercollegiate regattas until,
in 1876, Yale and Harvard rowed their first eight-oared
race at Springfield. ' inM distance rowed has, like the
boats, gone through a variety of changes since the inau-
guration of college races. The first race was over an
approximately two-mile straightaway course, but from
that time until 1872, the races were over a course of a
mile and a half and return. In that year a three-mile
straightaway course was adopted and adhered to imtil
Yale and Harvard began the eight-oared races, when
the course was altered to a four-mile straightaway,
glish oars have consistently adhered to the straight-
ay course and to long distance, rowing now a course
a furlong over four miles. Since 1857 they have
rowed in what was practically the present style of
eights, although the present oar, rigging, sliding seats,
etc., have been later additions. The first six-oared shell
in America was built for Harvard in 1857. It was
forty feet long and twenty-six inches wide, made of
white pine, at a cost of two hundred dollars. It weighed
one hundred and fifty pounds. Spoon oars were used
in this boat. Since that time both cedar and paper
boats have been used, and there is talk about the pos-
sibility of aluminium. For smaller boats this has
already been tried, but there is doubt of its availability

62 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

for eight oars. College boat-racing in America was at
its height, so far as the number of crews entered was
concerned, in the days of the National Rowing Associa-
tion of American Colleges. This was formed in 1872,
and the regattas were held at Springfield, on the Con-
necticut River. Then Saratoga was adopted as the
course, and in 1875 the following thirteen colleges sent
crews : Amherst, Bowdoin, Brown, Columbia, Cornell,
Dartmouth, Hamilton, Harvard, Princeton, Union,
Wesleyan, Williams, and Yale. The Massachusetts
Agricultural and Trinity had crews in the two preced-
ing years. With the withdrawal of Yale and Harvard
this organization fell to pieces, and to-day the race
between these two universities at New London is the
only one which is rowed regularly every year.

Of all the college sports this one of rowing makes
the most stringent demands upon a man's unselfish
devotion. In base-ball and foot-ball there is the stimu-
lus and excitement of frequent, almost daily, games,
and in track athletics there are plenty of brushes with
fiiends, and occasional outside contests, to give a
pleasant interest. In boating, although there are
many days during the season when the old as well
as the new oar finds an enjoyment in the sport itself,
there is usually but one day of contest, — one day of
supreme effort, — and the struggle for which all the
labor of six months has been undergone is all over
in a brief twenty minutes. To be prepared for this
day, to be fit to represent the university, a man
goes through months of training and many a day of
hard work, when there are no enthusiastic admirers
applauding the effort, and when oftentimes even the

BOWING 53

weather seems to be possessed of a vindietiveness
against the oarsman. Such a sport requires preemi-
nently men of strong character, men in whom per-
severance and patience are marked traits. A boating
man must make himself. Not all the coaches in the
world can do for him that part of the work which per-
sistent, plodding effort to master each detail can alone
accomplish. A coach may correct a fault, but faults
in rowing are apt to be like the foimed habits of
mature life, almost ingrained, and to eradicate them
requires the steadily fixed and unflagging attention of
the individual himself. At first it is a distinct effort at
every stroke for him to avoid a lapse into his old or na-
tural way. For days, and it may be for weeks, he feels
that he must think every time ; but then there comes
a day when it is more natural and easy to do it the
right way than the old way, and his lesson is learned.
But this is only one fault, and lucky indeed would be
the oarsman who found he had but one fault to correct.
In fact it is a wonder that more men do not become
discouraged in their early attempts; but the man
who goes in for this sport, and sticks doggedly at
it, putting his whole thought and attention upon the
instructions he is receiving, reaps in the end the
reward for all his labors. To some men, rowing, so
far as eventually securing a seat in the 'varsity boat,
is as much out of the question as becoming a 'varsity
ball-player. There is a knack about rowing as about
any other game of skill, but patience and perseverance
have made boatingmen out of some terribly unpromis-
ing material, so that one can hardly feel justified in
saying to any man, "You '11 never be an oarsman."

64 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

Some of the best men in Harvard and Yale boats
have been men who during their first year — yes, even
their second year — have been looked upon by the
coaches as decidedly doubtful. Besides the monotony
of the rower's training, there must also be considered
tiie fact that in the great final contest the oarsman
does not come into actual contact with his opponent;
and so there is lacking the usual stimulus to outdo
that is so marked in foot-ball, and present to less extent
in the other sports. It is here that the result of the
dogged determination is seen; and the same earnest
patience which makes the old oarsman take kindly
the coach's severest criticisms and put his whole
mind into correcting a trifling fault, now drives him
on when every stroke is a pain and his whole strength
seems exhausted. In selecting a man for the boat,
therefore, this quality of being willing to die with
no one but himself to fight is a sine qua non^ and often
gives a seat to a man whose skill may be less than
a rival's. Besides this, quickness of action and adap-
tability to changing circumstances are of great impor-
tance. Thus it is seen that many components —
strength, skill, quickness, perseverance, and bull-dog
pluck, with a cheerful acquiescence to hardships and
sacrifices — must be nicely balanced in the oarsman;
and the selecting of their men to answer these require-
ments is the most difficult task of captains and coaches.
The fact that a suitable bit of water must be near
at hand makes taking up the sport of rowing, in any
college or school, something more difficult than is
the case with foot-ball or base-ball. But the English
bumping-races show the possibility of using even a

ROWING 55

narrow course, and the roughness of the Sound, and
the oyster stakes in Mill River at New Haven, as
well as the bad water often on the Charles at Boston,
go far toward showing that a still-water lake is by no
means necessary to the development of the pastime.
Naturally the choice location for a course upon which
to bring up and train crews would be a placid lake,
long enough to yield a dead-water straightaway four-
mile course. The great advantage of dead water lies
in the possibility not only of trying experiments in
rigging and stroke, but of comparing one crew with
the crew of the previous year at the same period of
development. This gives the coaches and the captains
a means of judging how much value there is in every
change made either in work, training, or rig. But any
body of water where the prevailing winds of summer
and spring do not with too great frequency put a shell
in imminent danger of swamping, should tempt the
boating enthusiast to organize a crew. If the course
can be but a mile, by rowing with a turn a two-mile
race is possible; and many a class crew has turned out
'varsity material upon races of that distance. In the
matter of boats, class crews have in the past produced
excellent oarsmen in six-oared barges, and Varsity men
are to-day trained in pair-oars, while the Varsity crew
complete does its preliminary work when first on the
water in an eight-oared barge. The eight-oared shell
is the boat for the oarsman when he has rubbed off
some of his faults and become accustomed to his work.
Nothing can be prettier to the spectator, or more
fascinating to the men themselves, than the rhythmic
swing of those eight bodies, the dip of the eight oars,

56 WALTER CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

and that well nigh invisible bit of the boat-maker's art
which holds the eight stalwart fellows out of water.
But to return to the barge. The best thing that a
school or college determining upon the organization
of a boat-club can do, is to purchase a second-hand
barge for their initial work. If their club is likely to
depend for its races upon some rival school or college,
the two should agree upon the number of men and
purchase their first boats accordingly. If, on the other
hand, there are to be no outside races, but inter-club
contests, then pair-oars, fours, sixes, eights, — anything
that is warranted by the number of men and the
finances of the club. Racing in singles, while an excel-
lent sport, is not so good training for future crew work .
as the others, and although it teaches an individual
many things regarding balance and watermanship, it
does not directly fit him with any great measure of
assurance to become a member of a crew.

When a boat is obtained, a crew should know how to
take care of it. It is just as well to practise upon an
old boat and follow out the details as carefully as
though it were just from the maker. When not in use
it should be shelved, bottom up, upon a number of
brackets (at least four for a sixty-foot boat), suffi-
ciently close together to prevent any danger of warp-
ing from sagging. It should be kept well varnished,
with bolts, screws, etc., in tight order. Outriggers,
locks, and stretchers should be carefully inspected
before each row. When taken from the water, it should
be carefully wiped both inside and out. Before a race
it should be rubbed down with pumice-stone, smoothed
with soapstone, and greased with oil, paraffin, or simi-

ROWING 57

lar substance. An eight-oared shell made of paper
should weigh, all rigged, from 210 to 240 pounds; if
made of cedar, it should weigh from 230 to 275 pounds.
A cedar boat cannot be re-rigged with as little damage
as can the paper boat, but as a rule the cedar boat
proves stiffer and more durable. The length should be
from 59 to 61 feet, the depth approximately 9 inches
from gunwale to keel, with 4-inch wash-board above the
gunwale. The breadth in middle should be from 22
to 25 inches, narrowing to 16 or 18 inches at the ends
of the cockpit. The cockpit should be about 35 feet.
The oars should weigh approximately 7i pounds, and
the length be, inboard — that is, from button to end of
handle — 3i feet, and outboard — that is, from button
to tip of blade — 8i feet.

A word as to care of the oars. They should be
treated most carefully, for any slight scratch through
the varnish admits the water, and makes them heavy
and lessens their spring. In landing at the float, and
even when laid on a floor, the concavity of the spoon
should be down so as to avoid scratching. If leather but-
tons are used, they should be examined often, and kept
up true and smooth. Metal buttons always keep their
shape, and so are preferable to the leather in that point,
and have another advantage, in that the small screws
for attaching them weaken the oar less than the nails
of the leather button. It is important to have the end
of the blade and the back of the shank at the button
exactly parallel. One can determine whether the oar is
"true^ or not by resting the shank on a straightedge
and sighting over the end of blade. If "off," it can be
remedied by shaving off the leather that covers the oar

58 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

at the button on one side or the other as required. Each
man should cut the handle of his oar to fit his own hand,
so he can hold it easily and firmly with least eflfort.

In handling a boat, there is something to be consid-
ered beyond the mere rowing when in the water* As
I have already indicated, the boat must be properly
cared for at all times. If a foot-ball player uses a ball
badly, plays with it when the weather is inclement, as
many a time he must for practice, the expense of a
new ball is not so great as to count for the labor neces-
sary to prevent the ball becoming out of shape and
ruined. The same is true of a base-ball or a bat. But
a boat is not in the same class, and bad handling
and lack of proper care will ruin any boat, not only
in appearance, but for practical work and — that for
which it is wanted — for speed. I have already noted
how the boat is to be kept upon brackets or a rack,
how it is to be kept well wiped, varnished, and tight
as to bolts, screws, etc. Now as to moving the boat.
In taking a boat from the rack, if it be a high rack, as
is often the case, the crew should stand under it, take
it above their heads, and, lifting it clear, then let it
settle between the port and starboard men. If the
rack be low, the port men on one side and the starboard
men on the other lift it and carry it out. It is best to
carry it keel up, — that is, upside down, — with port men
on starboard side and starboard men on port side, each
man opposite his own rigger. Then when the boat is
tm'ned, one side reaching over and the other under, each
man gets his own rigger in his hand. If carried keel down
each man should be behind his own rigger. The boat
is put in the water from the keel-up position by raising

BOWIKG 59

above the heads and the men on one side — the side
next the water — stepping under, and all grasping the
cross-bars and swinging down to the water together.
It is put into the water from the keel-down position by
one side — the shore side men — holding the boat up by
the cross-bars while the other side crawl under the boat
— then as above to place it in the water. The keel-up
position is the best, and with a well-disciplined crew is
a very pretty sight. The boat being in the water
alongside the float, it is as well to say to the unini-
tiated that it is not advisable to jump into an eight-
oared racing shell in exactly the same careless manner
in which the average excursion party boards a broad-
beamed sail-boat. The shell would surely tip over,
and probably some feet would go through the thin
sides. As one looks down into the boat he sees eight
small seats on slides, and eight inclined foot-boards (with
straps for the feet), called stretchers. Along the exact
center of the bottom of the boat runs a strip called the
keelson. Eunning out from the sides are the out-
riggers, through which the oars obtain their purchase.
To get into the boat, put one foot on the keelson, and,
bracing on seat braces, transfer all the weight to the
foot on the keelson and lift the other daintily over, slip-
ping it into the stretcher strap; then, bending the knee
of the leg bearing the weight of the body, and with
hands on the side of the boat, let the body down into
the seat. The oar — this depends upon the nature of the
rowlock, however — should already be in place, and an
experienced man will steady himself with the oar in-
stead of the sides of the boat. The feet should always
be tightly strapped in the stretcher. Our crew and cox-

60 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

swain being now in the boat, an assistant or two, taking
hold of the blades of the oars that rest on the float (not
lifting them up, however, so as to unbalance the boat),
the end of handle being held against the opposite gun-
wale, while the men on the other side keep their blades
flat on the water and steady the shell, gently push the
boat out into the stream until the oars are clear of the
float. At this point, barring an interposition of Prov-
idence, a crew of landsmen who had not begun as
suggested earher in this article with pair-oar and
barge work, will tip over — in fact they probably would
before reaching this point. But having gone through
all the details in a less cranky aflfair, they are ready for
shell work. The coxswain says, " Ready ! " The eight
oars go back to full reach and he flat on the water —
or the oars may be buried for the stroke. The knees
of the men are bent and the slides all aft and the arms
extended. " Give way ! " and the men swing up from
the " Ready " position and the boat is oflf. Here we
will leave the crew to discover how hard it is to learn
to keep a shell on its bottom, while I revert to the
terms used in rowing and coaching.

"Ready all" and "Give way" have just been de-
fined.

" Avast " means stop rowing, and should be called
while the oars are in the water — never on the recover
except in an emergency.

"Hold" means to keep the oar buried at right angles
to the side of the boat, thus stopping her progress ; the
plane of blade being parallel to the surface of the water*

" Back water " means to reverse the motion of row-
ing, driving the oar in water from stern to bow instead.

ROWING 61

The " Catch " is when the oars take the water on the
stroke and the shoulders swing up.

The " Finish ^ is when the oars leave the water at
the end of the stroke.

The "Eecover" is the combination of movements
through which an oarsman goes from the time of the
"Finish" until he is again in position for another
stroke, — that is, to the position for " Catch" again.

The " Bevel " of the oar is the angle it makes with
the plane of the water when it goes in. If this angle
be too great the oar goes too deep, or "dives," as
the expression has it. If too small, it does not get a
grip. When the angle is too great it is called too little
bevel, and mce versa. In general the bevel of the oar
should be 5 degrees to 10 degrees from in front of the
perpendicular, and the shoulders ought to be about 15
to 20 degrees beyond the perpendicular at the catch,
and considerably less at the finish.

The term "Time" is used technically to indicate
the unison of a crew in every movement.

The following are the most common terms used in
coaching a crew, with the meaning appended:

" Bucks " or " Meets the oar " is the expression used
to indicate meeting the oar with the body at finish when
the arms are pulled in. The body here should be per-
fectly rigid.

" Slumps." Settles down with shoulders and upper
body at the finish, so that back is crooked and muscles
relaxed.

" Rushes slide." On recover allows slide to run the
oarsman by the momentum of the boat, rather than
holding it in check with the feet on the stretcher.

62 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OP COLLEGE SPORTS

^* Loses control of slide " has similar meaaing.

" Swings out,** that is, fails to keep in line over the
keel so that the men are not in line. When a crew
swing ont, as one looks along the boat their bodies
appear to be making a scissors motion as they row.

" Gets in late.** The oar goes into the water after the
others, or the swing np with the shoulders is too slow
and breaks the time.

" Gets out late." The oar drags at finish and backs
water.

"Short on catch" means not getting the oar in the
water far enough toward bow. This may be due to
either too short rigging or too little body reach.

" Drops on catch" means that the oarsman allows his
shoulders to go toward the stem of the boat just as his
oar takes the water.

"Clips" means to miss the first part of a stroke,
rowing it in the air.

The management of the boat while in use is impor-
tant both as a help to perfection in rowing and for the
preservation of the shell in the best possible condition.
When not rowing the blades should rest flat on the
water, the handles being held firmly, and the boat always
balanced on an even keel. If in the racing boat, hold-
ing water should be done as little as possible and
lightly, to avoid the strain it throws on the rigging and
bracing. In turning, one side should pull aroimd very
easily (always in time for the sake of practice), the
other side having the oars flat on the water and never
holding or backing while flrst side is rowing, as this
strains the boat badly. In meeting a swell it should
be taken full broadside with the boat riding and falling

BOWING 63

in trough. If taken at any angle the strain is tremen-
dous, and will weaken the best boat.

It is well to have the coxswain give all orders for
rowing, stopping, etc., the captain giving them to him.
Emergency orders, as " hold,^ however, must not wait
for repeating, and any order from the coxswain must
be obeyed at once, for he is the pilot.

There is one part of the coach's and captain's duties
about which the general public hears but little, and
upon which practical knowledge is a most important
component toward making a winning crew. That part
is the " rigging," or, commonly speaking, the arrange-
ment of each individual in the boat, so that he may by
proper use of his seat, stretcher, outrigger, and oar, get
the maximum power into his stroke at the minimum
expenditure of strength, and so that the entire crew
may act as a most harmonious whole. What the proper
timing and the concerted action of men in a team play
is to foot-ball, the rigging is to a boat crew. A poorly
rigged crew make hard work of keeping time, — they
may be rigged so badly as to make time almost im-
possible, — become quickly exhausted from being com-
pelled to do their work in awkward positions, and,
finally, that work is performed at a mechanical dis-
advantage.

To cover the detail of rigging exhaustively would
be to take up measurements which could be multiplied
almost indefinitely; but it is possible to give some
general directions that will enable the captain of
brains to adjust his crew satisfactorily by careful
scrutiny and following out the principles. The rig-
ging should be so arranged that when a man is on full

64 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

reach he will get his oar into the water at aboat five
to seven feet forward of the thole-pin, and bring it
out at finish from four to five feet aft of the thole-
pin. His outrigger should be high enough above the
water, so that his hands comfortably clear his knees
on the recover, with oar-blade four inches above the
water, or about 7J to 8J inches above his seat. The
seat is, according to the man, from six to nine inches
from the bottom of the boat, and the slide from fifteen
to twenty inches in length. This slide is on a pitch
aft of one inch. In general, a short man must have
a higher seat and must come farther aft of thole-pin,
in order that he may get a longer reach. He is also
forced to reach farther forward with his shoulders
and swing back farther.

"The stroke,'* as commonly spoken of, means the
entire action of the oarsmen of a crew in propelling
the boat by the repetition of the motions connected
with the repeated plunging of the oars into the water.
This action is divided into two component parts — the
stroke proper, and the recover. The stroke proper
lasts from the time the oar is put into the water —
"the catch ** — until it leaves the water at "the finish."
The "recover" is from the time the oar leaves the
water until it again enters it. The stroke consists of
three parts — the catch, the pull through, and the
finish; while the recover consists of the feather, the
carrying back over the water, and the turning up for
the catch. During the stroke the oarsman swings up
with his shoulders, kicks out his slide until his knees
are nearly straight, and, finally, brings oar to body
with his arms. During the recover he performs these

ROWING 65

movements in reverse order and manner, getting his
hands out, his knees bent, and his shoulders forward,
ready for the next stroke. The art of the oarsman lies
in doing these things in the proper order and time,
until the entire act is as smooth and rhythmic as the
stroke of a bird's wing. The stroke may be subdi-
vided indefinitely, many giving it over a score of com-
ponent parts; but that is more for the theoretical
study of it than for the novice or ordinary boating man.
In training crews a very important feature is under-
standing how much work they should be called upon
to perform daily, and what the nature of that work
should be. It is just as advisable that the preparation
for a boat race should be gradual as it is that a man
should learn to read before undertaking advanced
studies. In many sports nature speaks out at once
when a man is forced. For instance, if a man with-
out training should undertake to run a mile at full
speed, it is probable that he would sink exhausted
or become afficted with violent nausea before he had
gone half the distance. But in boating there might
not be so apparent an outcry against overtaxing the
novice, and yet no good could come from it, and much
harm might. Moreover, looking at it from the stand-
point of the captain, overtraining means that his crew
will lose the race. It is well, therefore, to follow
the course of training adopted for a 'varsity crew or
college. The English rowing men do not take so long
a course as Americans ; but boating is more general,
and the material is usually well broken in before it
reaches the hands of the president of the boat-club. A
Harvard or Yale 'varsity crew, after what little work

66 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

they may perform on the water in the fall, really settle
down or go into training in midwinter, after the Christr
mas vacation. Their winter work consists of a bit
of general exercise in the form of various move-
ments, intended to increase the freedom of action and
strength of the muscles used in rowing. This lasts,
perhaps, fifteen minutes. Then the crew start out for
a jaunt, mostly an easy run, broken up by occasional
spurts and walks, which, beginning very moderately,
lengthen out after a few weeks to a distance " ^veral ^
miles, returning to the gymnasium well ^o "ter ^

a short rest they go down for tank \ is, ■

to sit in a boat which is stationary, while the the ^

water around through its channel with ti^t? Of ^

course the likeness to real rowing is decidedly crude; .
but there is enough si., ilarity to make it possible and '
practicable to coach men for the later work upon th ;
water. This tank wo^k is not a long-continued pull, \
but broken up by fioquent stops, while the coach
explains to the crew in general or to the individual
the faults and how to remedy them. After this work,
lasting perhaps an hour, the men take their bath, and
are well rubbed down. This winter work of the crew
is usually performed in the afternoon, and gives a man
a short time to rest before dinner. Until the water is
clear and the weather a little less than bitterly cold,
the tank or gymnasium work continues ; but with the
very earliest possible opening the captain takes his
crew to the boat-house and gets them upon real water
in a barge. As this is likely enough not until April,
the men are in fair physical condition to stand work.
When a crew gets upon the water, the judicious

KOWIN(; (37

captain or coach kuows that the work is not hkc that
of the field sports, where the time occupied is, and
should be, almost tbe same daily after the men settle
down to mid-season work. Some days the coaching
upon a particular fault may keep a crew out for
hours and yet the actual labor not be excessive ; and
again at other times a straight, long pull may be advis-
able where the rowing is kept up every minute of the
time the men are out. The duration of the practice,

i thc^ ' ^ vainer sav from one to two and a half hours.

\ SI ' '••'"^ alls, with coaching, are necessary for the

: e:*. ~^l A individual faults; while if a crew is
" b ^^ther ^ (that is, rowing each man for himself

witlitu . regard for time), a long, easy puU of five or six

J miles "shakes them together ^ (that is, makes them row
more alike and as a imit) the ^est of anything. Once
or twice a week the distance to be pulled in the race
should be rowed over on tim On these days only a
little light work should be done, consisting of spurts
and coaching pulls. During the week of the race
there is no special modification, except very light work
for the two days preceding the event. If a crew can
row twice a day instead of once, two hours on the
water in the morning — if not too hot — in coaching
individual rowing, and the same in the afternoon,
can be endured; but the captain and coach must
watch his men very carefully, particularly the ones
likely to become overtrained. Boating men speak
of a man as "going fine," and mean by that that
he is on the border-line of becoming overtrained or
** stale." The indications are loss of appetite, general
laziness and indisposition, with tired, aching feelings

68 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

in the muscles and bones. There is a bad taste in
the mouth and poor sleep, maybe persistent insomnia,
and a failure to gain from day to day the weight
rowed off. Ordinarily this loss and gain of weight
should be from two to four pounds, although it often
reaches six or even seven. The only treatment for
this condition of fineness is rest, either partial or, if
necessary, complete. A change from the diet of the
training-table should be enjoyed if case be obstinate,
and in worse cases a few days' change of residence will
work a cure. Drugs are useless, and worse. Cham-
pagne and claret may be of use in case it is so late in
the season that a rest cannot be afforded.

A freshman crew can in the main stand a similar
course of work, although there may be instances occa-
sionally where the youth of some individual member
will make a little less desirable.

A school crew, where the boys are from fifteen to
nineteen years old, should average from a half hour
to an hour and a half of work a day, and pull the
length of course to be rowed once or twice a week.

In regard to the time a crew should leave the barge
and take to shell rowing, it may be said that in general
the earlier the better, after they have mastered the
rudiments. The change should never be made, how-
ever, till the barge is perfectly balanced, and the crew
is able to row in good time, and no glaring faults are
apparent.

While in the barge the stroke should vaiy from
22 to 26 to the minute. On entering the shell it should
remain at that number till the boat runs well on an
even keel, when it can be gradually raised to the top

ROWING 69

point at which the crew can row, this varying with
diflEerent styles of rowing : the present average is about
34 to 36, except on spurts.

If, as is almost invariably the case, some man finds
himself the possessor of an obstinate fault, the place
for him is the pair-oar, no matter at what season of the
year. Either with his coach or alone, he can often find
and remedy the diflSculty in a short time, whereas in
the cranky and rapidly moving shell he is completely
at a loss how to act.

Perhaps nothing is of more interest to the athlete
than a study of past methods and deductions made by
his predecessors in any sport, and the man who makes
a study of these often has at hand explanations and
suggestions in cases coming up in his own time, which
are of great value to himself and his fellows in deter-
mining a course of action. To no branch of American
athletics does this apply with greater force than to
boating, because in that sport we still adhere in the
principal points to almost the same general line as that
prevailing in England for a long series of years. The
Englishmen have little base-ball, cricket taking its
place. In foot-ball we have wandered far from the
original principles of Eugby Union; in track athletics 'H /
there is little in the way of apparatus, and the ques-
tions of training simply differ for climatic reasons; but
in boating, the general rigging, the stroke and meth-
ods have a peculiar interest for us, and I shall therefore
go into some of the comments of English authors upon
the rowing of the universities, giving some of the old
as well as later ideas expressed by men thoroughly
familiar with the sport. Ah English authority says.

70 WALTER CAMPUS BOOK OP COLLEGE SPOBTS

most properly, that training is "putting the body
with extreme and exceptional care imder the influence
of all the agents whicl^ promote its health and strength,
in order to enable it to meet extreme and exceptional
demands upon its energies." And the best English
authorities upon training insist upon the progressive
system of very gradual development. But for aU that,
their university crews do not as a rule spend nearly as
long a period of time in this progressive preparation
as do American boating men. But in the selection
of their men, they do lay particular stress upon the
importance of selecting men of good build in the upper
body and chest. They look for men whose lungs and
heart have plenty of room, and one of their authorities
gives the following measurements of a man who rowed
number seven in one of the Oxford University boats
as being those of one of the best specimens of both
muscular and respiratory power he had ever seen:
Age, 21 years; height, 5 feet 9i inches; weight, 11
stone 6 pounds ; chest, 40 inches ; forearm, 12 inches ;
upper arm, 14 inches. As will be seen, this man was
no giant, but his chest was of the kind that English
boating men like to note in their candidates. In con-
tradistinction to this, let me instance the case of a man
who was advised particularly not to go into boating,
but who was found rowing in one of the minor college
boats. This man's measurements were as follows:
Age, 19 years ; height, 5 feet 9 inches ; weight, 9 stone
3 pounds ; chest, 32 inches ; forearm, 9i inches ; upper
arm, 9J inches. As far as possible, they dislike to have
any man take up rowing who at eighteen years of age
has not a minimum chest development of thirty-six

BOWING 71

inches. In training, their diet is as liberal as ours, and
with perhaps more freedom in the use of beer, or ale,
as we call it. Not to too greatly alarm the friends
and relatives of any man who may be selected for a
coxswain in an American boat, let me instance the
course of training for one of these much-abused candi-
dates in an English boat. "For a week before and
during the week of the race, pills and Turkish baths
twice a week, running daily in heavy clothing, and
food a^s little as would sustain life." But if a man is
willing to pay for the pleasure of having eight magnif-
icent fellows row him about for weeks, he must expect
the bill to come rather high ; and no one, I believe, has
had the temerity to advance the sport of coxswaining
as one that produces marked physical development.
One of the most interesting studies of English boating
men was that made some twenty years ago by Mr.
Morgan of Oxford, in pursuance of the inquiry as to
the number of university oars benefited or injured by
the sport. He followed up every man who sat in the
^varsity crews from 1829 to 1869, during which period
26 races had been rowed. There were 294 of these
men, of whom 255 were living, 39 having died, and
his final conclusions were as follows:

Benefited by rowing 115

Uninjured 162

Injured 17

This was in the days before the more careful system
of training and selection had been adopted. Some of
the letters he received and some of his comments are

72 WALTEE CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

of deep interest to oarsmen, and cany a pleasant senti-
ment in the lines.

From Bengal writes McQueen : '' I am now a stout man weigh-
ing fifteen stone, but able to be in the saddle aU day without
fatigue, or, if necessary, walk my ten or fifteen miles without dis-
tress." I wonder if he still possesses the same hand-power that
he had in his youth f He had simply the strongest hand and
wrist I have ever known, and never did I place my own palm
in his without setting my teeth close. His was the true Hercu-
lean build. Nind writes from Queensland: ''Since taking my
degree in 1855, my constitution has been put to the test in many
climates, for I have lived in Canada, on the west coast of America,
and in Australia, and I can safely aver that I have never, in trying
circumstances, found any failure of physical power ; and that when
hard pressed by fatigue and want of food, the recollection of the
endurance developed by rowing and other athletics gave me fresh
spirit and encouragement." And yet Nind was not naturally a
powerful man. His frame was the very antithesis to that of Mo-
Queen. Those who remember him as he first came to the university,
will recall his exquisitely molded features, almost feminine in their
softness and sweetness of expression. Schneider writes from New
Zealand : '' I may state that, so far as I am concerned, I am able to
discover no particular symptoms, either good, bad, or indiflferent, at-
tributable to rowing." Then follow other letters, and these lines :
'' In the list of oarsmen, certain names are printed in italics, — not
many, thank God ! — a small percentage only. They have rowed out
their life-race. They rise before my mind's eye as I first knew them.
Brewster's magnificent form towering half a head above his stalwart
shipmates. Invalided from his regiment, caught cold by returning
wet from a Brighton Volunteer Review, died from its effects. Pole-
hampton, the chivalrous, the gentle, the brave ! Decorated while at
college with the Royal Humane Society's Medal, for saving a com-
panion from drowning at his own imminent penl. Shot through the
body at Lucknow, — and died of cholera while attending to his com-
rades stricken by the same malady- The very career he would have
marked out for himself had it been left to his hand to trace it!
Hughes, the accompHshed, the frank, the manly, — the very nature

BOWING 73

that, speaking in our love and in our pride, we emphatically style
the beau-ideal of an English gentleman, — died last year of in-
flammation of the lungs.^

Who knows but that some one will write a list of
the memorable names in our American sports, men
who sat in our boats, and played upon our fields?
And that list will contain names that mean as much
to us as these do to the Englishman.

The Rev. T. H. T. Hopkins of Magdalen College,
Oxford, wrote as follows of the sliding seat nearly
twenty years ago. "The mechanism of the sliding seat
consists of two runners or rails formed of glass, brass,
hardwood, or other suitable material on which the
rower's seat slides to and fro in a direction parallel to
the keel of the boat. Friction is obviated by the intro-
duction of friction wheels ; the traverse fore and aft is
limited by stops. The effect of this seat on the rowing
work may be stated briefly as follows: In order to
obtain the necessary traverse for the oar, we require a.
backward and forward motion of about three feet
each way. This reach, as it is called when speaking of
the motion forward, is attained oil fioced seats by inclin-
ing the shoulders and trunk of the body from the hips
as far forward as possible, and by extending the arms
straight out to their fullest stretch, the knees being at
the same time somewhat bent up ; on the sliding seats
the same, or, to speak more coiTectly, a longer reach is
attained, partly by inclining the trunk of the body for-
ward, but not to the same extent as with the fixed seat,
partly by sliding the whole body forward on and with
the seat, partly by extension of the arms as in the fixed

74 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

seat, the knees, however, being considerably more bent
We shall probably be near the mark in stating that
the body of a rower on a fixed seat moves through
about 90 degrees; on a sliding seat through about
45 degrees."

One crew, when practising for the Henley regatta
of 1872, adopted them and increased its speed, at its
first row, by twenty seconds over the Henley course,
though four oarsmen out of the eight had never rowed
on sliders before.

Mr. KnoUys of Magdalen College, Oxford, writes:
^^The difference of sliding and fixed seats is the same
as if one were to try and raise a great weight off the
floor between or over the knees. In fixed seats the
muscles of the leg and those of the small of the back
are used about equally, and in sliding seats the mus-
cles of the leg, especially those just above the knee,
are used about twice as much as those of the back.
My idea of correct sliding is to row for about four
inches in the ordinary way, and then kick as hard
as one can."

Mr. Knollys thus sets forth what he considers the
great advantage of the sliding seat: "I think they do
not pump one so soon. Most men's wind gets ex-
hausted before their muscles, and on a sliding seat
one does not get blown so soon as on a fixed one. The
reason for this I take to be, that all the work is done
with the body in an almost upright position. There
is not nearly so much movement of the body, and
none of the pressure of the legs against tlie abdomen
and ribs when forward." The above are nearly all
collected from the opinions by Mr. McLaren, in his

BOWING 75

book upon training. He also gives the description
of a practical test made by the Rev. Mr. Hopkins,
and confirmed by the investigation followed by Pro-
fessor Haughton, of the University of Dublin, to de-
termine the actual force employed in the propulsion
of an eight-oared shell at racing speed. Mr. Hopkins
weighted an eight-oared shell with sand-bags, to match
an average crew. This boat was then towed by a
line upon which was a dynamometer, and the cal-
culation showed that a force of 63 lbs. would be
required to propel a boat at the rate of 9 miles an
hour, or a mile in 7 minutes. He goes on to say,
however, that the formula would prove true only
within limits, and only approximately so at high
speeds. Professor Haughton, working out the same
problem, on the basis of a mile in 7 minutes, showed
that the work done per man is 18.56 foot-tons in 7
minutes, or 2.65 foot-tons each minute, and also
gives us the rule. "The work done per minute by
a boat's crew varies as the cube of the velocity.
Thus a double speed requires an eightfold work per
minute." Comparing the work done in rowing a mile
at racing speed, or in 7 minutes, with the work done by
one of his eight-oared crew, weighing 11 stone 4 lbs., —
158 lbs., — in racing costume, walking 1 mile, he has

Rowing 18.56 foot-tons.

Walking 18.62 "

If, then, one may take the Englishman's couclusious
after many years of boating experience, the sport is far
from dangerous, and one in which the man of sound
body will always find pleasure and profit.

A BEMARKABLE BOAT RACE

AS SEEN FBOM THE BEFEBEE'S LAUNCH

IT was the day of the long-talked-of Atalanta-Yale
race ; and every one was on the tip-toe of expec-
tancy at the thought of the question of boating su-
premacy to be settled between the champion ama-
teur eight and the champion college eight. Experts in
boating matters had expressed differing opinions as to
the probable result, and every one at all interested in
rowing had read of the merits of the rival crews. The
general opinion was that the Atalantas would lead for
at least two miles, and then would strain every nerve
to hold that advantage to the end of the four miles
which had been agreed upon as the distance. The race
was to be rowed between the hours of ten and seven, at
any time when the conditions of wind, tide, and water
were most favorable. At nine o'clock the wind had
sprung up ; and the crews, referee, and judges, who
were assembled at the Yale boat-house in preparation
for the start, began to cast dubious looks at the flags
as they stood out straight from the poles in the fresh-
ening breeze. The course had been laid out in the
harbor, extending four miles direct from the outside
breakwater to the end of Long Wharf. The boat-house
stood a mile back from the long pier, and the boats of
both crews were here housed until the referee should

A BEMABKABLE BOAT BAGE 77

order them out for the race. The Long Wharf and
boats and bridges were black with people by ten
o'clock. Eleven o'clock, and still the wind whipped
the water into waves, not high, but too rough for the
low eight-oared shells to ride without danger of becom-
ing filled before the four miles could be rowed. Now
the only hope of the weather-wise was that on the turn
of the tide, just after noon, the wind would slacken.
This hope proved well founded, for by twelve o'clock
the flags were drooping, and, the water becoming
quieter, the referee ordered out the boats, and the
crews hastened to bring the slender shells.

The Yale crew then jumped aboard the referee's
steam-launch, which started down the harbor, towing
the shell. A steam-tug performed the same oflBces for
the Atalantas. As the two little steamers puffed down
past the piers, the " Eah ! rah ! — Tale ! " of the college
sympathisers mingled with the cheers of the friends of
the Atalantas. By the time they reached the start-
ing-flag, the course was by no means bad except at
a few exposed points. The two crews at once crept
gingerly into their cranky shells, and paddled up to
the line.

Soon the shells were in place ; the referee called out,
** Are you ready f " and then his " Go ! " rang out like a
pistol-shot. The sixteen oar-blades were buried, and the
two boats sprang forward like unleashed hounds, the
Yale bow a trifle to the fore. Now for the lead ! The
Yale crew have been told that they must not be
alarmed if the Atalantas should at first succeed in
obtaining the coveted lead, but they have also been
instructed to "spurt" up to thirty-five strokes to the

78 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

minute (which is two or three above their regular
number) rather than let these sturdy rivals have their
own way at this point. Both crews are putting forth
all their strength ; the Tale blades splash a little more
than those of the Atalantas, but nevertheless the
power of their stroke keeps them still a foot ahead.
Almost stroke for stroke they row, but now the Yale
boat is traveling more smoothly on her keel, and she
begins to draw away. The half-mile flag is passed,
and there is clear water between the boats. Down
drops Yale's stroke to thirty-one, while the Atalantas'
must remain at thirty-four.

On they go, the space between the boats slowly
growing until, at the mile, Yale is three lengths ahead.
At the mile and a half they have increased this lead to
four lengths, and it begins to look as if it were " all
over but the shouting.'' The Yale blades go more
smoothly now, and there is hardly a splash in the
rhythmic swing of the rising and falling oars when —
what I stroke has ceased to row I See the spurting
sheet of water rising over his motionless oar! Oh,
Allen ! — no one thought you 'd fail ! But why does he
not recover f The water still leaps from the dragging
blade ; the cause is plain — he has broken his oar, and
Yale's chances are gone ! What a pity, after their fine
work, and with such a lead ! Allen is reaching out and
unlocking his rowlock to set the oar free and stop its
impeding drag upon the boat. The Yale oars go
bravely on, not a stroke lost, although there are only
seven oarsmen now. But the Atalantas are creeping
up, and it is manifestly a hopeless task for those seven
men to carry a " passenger " as heavy as Allen over the

A BEMABEABLE BOAT BAGE 79

remainiDg two miles, and keep ahead of the eight in
red, who are now steadily overhauling them. Allen has
succeeded in freeing the broken oar, and drops the two
treacherous bits into the water astern. Poor fellow, it
will break his heart to watch the steady approach of
that slender prow behind and be unable to help his
men ! See, he turns and says something to starboard-
stroke, and now — he is certainly going to stand up I
Just leaning forward, he rises as the seven oars make
their catch and lift the boat firmly ; and, almost with-
out a splash, over he goes, clear of the boat, which
shoots ahead as he turns in the water and calls cheer-
fully, "Go in and win !^ A few strokes of his muscular
arms, and he is reached by the launch, and swings him-
self up into her bows the hero of the hour ! Now his
crew still has a chance to win, for the loss of his oar is
partly compensated by the decreased weight. A half
mile will tell the story, for they have lost but a length
or two of their lead. As they pass the next flag it is
evident that the Atalantas are no longer gaining, and at
the three miles they are surely dropping farther astern !
Only a mile more, and if the plucky little coxswain can
keep up the courage of his seven men, Allen will have
no cause to mourn. We are near enough to hear the
coxswain shout, "Only a half mile more, boys; keep it
up and we '11 beat them yet ! " The boats at the finish
begin to see them coming, and the whistles blow and
the cheers come rolling over the water, encouraging
them to hold that powerful swing just a little longer.
Two minutes — and "bang!^ goes the gun on the
judge's boat, and the Tale crew shoots by, the
winners of one of the most remarkable races ever

80 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OP COLLEGE SPORTS

rowed. And how the boys will make heroes of them
all! — Allen for his coolness and pluck, the coxswain
for his skill and courage, the starboard-stroke for his
steady work, and all the crew for their endurance
and nerve!

A BOAT RACE AT NEW LONDON
IN THE EIGHTIES

NoTB. — If in this race Yale wins, it is not to be taken that Yale wins
an undue proportion of the races she rows with Harvard; but that, being
a Yale man, my description, if I made Harvard win, would of neces-
sity stop after the last stroke, or else be a most doleful tale of sad, dis-
heartened home-coming without enlivening incident, and not conducive
to the glamour I would throw over the sport.

rl is the end of June, and Commencement week is
drawing to its close. The campus, with its canopy
of old elms, has echoed with the annual shouts of class
histories; the fence has again held the dangling limbs
of the returning alumni, the chapel has been filled with
the eloquence of orator and poet, and the white, stark
old Center church has heard one more valedictory, and
seen once again the giving of degi-ees.

To the graduating-class, the end of college days for
the first time looms up as a reality. The excitement
of class exercises has up to this time hidden the specter
of farewell. Yet there remains one more event; once
more may their blood be stirred, and their enthusiasm
aroused, before they leave old Yale behind them for
the more serious realities of life. The boat race is yet
to come, and every one is going. The fair friends who
have come on to see their brothers, and the brothers of
other girls, graduate are in a flutter of excitement over
the final event. They have crushed one and another

82 WALTEB camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

of their pretty gowns at promenade, ball-match, and
Commencement; but they appear at the depot a&
neat and trim and cool as one might wish, ready to
set out for New London. The long excursion-train
stands on the tracks, and from nearly every window
flutters the blue of Yrle. The cars are already crowded,
and still they come. "Oh, I wish we 'd start!'' cries
out a pretty girl, who is not alone in her impatience.
At last the bell rii: 'ai: ' '^he train moves off on its
two hours' trip to* the Thames. Stories of last year's
victory, rehearsals of the gaiety of the past week, gos-
sip about the rival crews beguile the time away on the
ride, and almost before we realize it the train draws
into New London. Here we begin to find something
beside the blue. Crimson ribbons dangle from parasols
and encircle straw hats. Buttons of the same brilliant
color are seen on coats, and before we have been in the
town long it is evident that Harvard has plenty of
supporters.

There is time but for a bite of luncheon, and then we
all hurry over to the observation-train. How the sun
beats down, and what a stew every one is in about seats.
It is impossible for any one who has not secured seats
in advance to get a place, and there are tales of fabu-
lous sums asked by speculators for seats. Fortunately
we purchased our seats several days ago, and we hurry
about to find our car. Here it is at last, and — what a
lark! — it is next to a Harvard car. See the red ribbons!
Well, they '11 make it pleasant for us if they win; but
how we will glory over them if our boys only come in
ahead! Is nt that a pretty girl just getting in, and
what a stunning gown! The cars are full as far along

A BOAT RACE AT NEW LONDON 83

the line as we can see^ and it is time we started. There,
there is the bell of the locomotive, and with a little
jerk of the long train we are nnder way. Slowly, like
a long serpent, the train twists along np the bank of
the river to the starting-point, and every now and then
we enliven its progress with a cheer, which is heartily
answered by our Harvard rivals. At last, with a final
jolt, this huge grand-stand of cars comes to a stop
juiSt beside the starting-lin , he we see the diminu-
tive steam-launches scurrying to and fro, bearing the
instructions of the referee and starter. The two crews
are not yet visible, and every one is craning his or her
neck in vain attempts to catch the first glimpse of one
or the other of the rivals. Presently there is a stir at
the Harvard quarters over across the river, and the
men from Cambridge are seen carrying their shell out
on the fioat. Steadily they bear the fragile thing out
to the side of the fioat, and we just catch a gleam from
its shining side as the men turn it into the water.
How daintily they step into her! But while we have
been watching all this through a powerful glass, another
shell has been put into the water, and, manned by eight
fine fellows, comes pushing its slender nose along
toward the starting-point. " Rah ! rah ! rah ! Tale ! '' echo
the cheers from car after car along the line. Almost
before the cheers have passed the length of the train,
the Harvard boat comes springing along under the im-
I)etus of the eight long sweeps which move like the
legs of a great caterpillar walking the water. Now the
red-ribboned spectators take their turn at cheering,
and the cry of "Harvard!" rings out along the line.
The two boats are backed up to the starting-line.

84 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OP COLLEGE 8P0BTS

the referee calls out his final instructions, and then,
as the boats are held to await the word, there comes
a sudden hush over the crowd, through which comes
faintly over the water the "Are you ready?" and
almost instantly the report of a pistol. How the two
boats jump forward, and the oars flash, and the backs
bend I See, the Harvard boat is drawing just a little
ahead, but that little sends her adherents into a state
of frenzied cheering, and as we pass behind the hill
and lose sight of the boats, our last view shows a little
clear water between Harvard's stem and Yale's bow.
What a pause of anxiety it is while we drag along
through this cut I Just as the first cars move slowly
out into the open again a cheer goes up that certainly
seems to end with "Yale.'' Can it be that Yale is pick-
ing up f In a moment our car emerges, and we, too,
set up a most undignified, but very joyful, yell, as we
see the two boats even once more and pulling almost
stroke for stroke. The flash of the oars just before
the catch, the clean finish, the sway of the bodies, —
everything moves like clockwork in both boats as they
shoot along side by side, neither gaining any advan-
tage. But see, where there were eight swinging bodies
a moment ago there are nine now, and — hurrah I it is
the Yale bow-oar who makes the first one of the nine
bodies. A few strokes more, and number two appears
before the Harvard bow. Yale is unmistakably draw-
ing ahead. Oh, what a relief to feel that they are
really pulling away from that boat which hangs so
persistently by their side! And what a satisfaction
to see that though Harvard is now spurting they do
not pull up, but simply hold their own. Now the Yale

A BOAT RACE AT NEW LONDON 86

stroke quickens a little, and foot by foot they draw
ahead, until clear water shows between their stern and
Harvard's bow. It begins to look like Yale's race now,
surely, for as they flash by the three-mile flag there
is a gap of more than a boat's length. But the crim-
son crew has not yet given up. Their stroke calls upon
them for another spurt, and one can almost feel the
effort with which his men answer to it. Their bow is
creeping up again, but they cannot hold it. See num-
ber two — how his head goes over as he yanks on his
oar! Three and five are also in dire distress, while the
blues are pulling like a machine, and increasing their
lead again. Past the half-mile flag they go, and the
race is virtually over. Nothing but an accident can
now deprive Yale of the victory. They have again
dropped their stroke, and are pulling almost leisurely.
Harvard makes another effoi*t, but without gaining
a foot, and now the steam craft set up their shrill
whistling. The cannon on the yachts puff out their
flashes of smoke, but the sound of the report is hardly
heard in the din, and Yale crosses the finish line a
winner by five lengths. Now every cheer has "Yale"
at the end, and blue flags wave, and Yale men are shak-
ing hands with Yale men, while the Harvard colors
trail along in the dust, and their sympathizers are
dumb, and another race has been lost and won.

There is a rush for the bake-shops, and every one
seizes what he may for himself and party, and in a
short time we are aU packed once more into the
train for New Haven. One or two members of the
crew are with us, and how they are cheered and hand-
shaken and clapped on the back all the way home!

86 WALTER GAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

Here is a man with his hat in his hand taking np a
collection for fireworks. Nor does he have to do any
begging. Bills and silver pile up rapidly in his straw
hat, until he is obliged to make transfers to his pocket
in order to have room for further collections.

As soon as we pull into the station every one hur-
ries up to the campus and New Haven House, to
make preparations to receive the victorious crew.
A band is engaged, and a crowd starts back with the
musicians to march up with the boys. We have
hardly time to get a bite of supper before the fire-
works begin. Trinity Church bells jangle out their
chimes of **Here 's to good old Yale, drink her
down, drink her down.** The campus is a sea of
fire, with burning barrels and boxes, cannon crack-
ers, Roman candles, and sky-rockets, and in the
midst of it all we hear the blare of the comet,
and the banging of the drum and cymbals, as
the crew, led by the band and followed by a
crowd of cheering men, turn the comer of Church
Street and come marching up Chapel Street to
the New Haven House. When they have reached
this spot they stop, and one of the men, whose voice
is already so hoarse as to be entirely unrecognizable,
waves his hat for silence. As the noise lessens for
an instant, he shouts out, " Three times three for

Captain 1'' and the crowd responds most nobly.

Then follows a cheer for each member of the vic-
torious crew and the substitutes, and a final three
times three for another victory over Harvard. Then
the crew are taken into the New Haven House for
a supper, while the crowd outside continue the fire-

A BOAT EACE AT NEW LONDON

^works and celebration. Almost without cessation the
crackers snap and the candles flash out their liquid
fire until long after twelve o^clock, and it is not till
almost daybreak that the campus becomes deserted
and the last smoldering embers are extinguished by
the night-watchman. And when to-morrow comes
not one of the many pretty girls will begrudge a burnt
hole here and there in her gown, nor the torn gloves,
nor any of the souvenirs left by the incidents or acci-
dents of the day, but she will go oflE for the summer
and tell how she saw the Yale crew win at New Lon-
don, and the number of candles she herself set off in
their honor on their return.

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

THE rules governing American foot-ball are an out-
growth or development of the English Rugby
foot-ball game, the very name of which at once recalls
to every reader the well-beloved " Tom Brown.''

The credit of introducing these rules among our col-
leges belongs entirely to Harvard, who had learned
them from the Canadians and were at the outset won
by the superior opportunities offered by the new game
for strategy and generalship as well as for clever indi-
vidual playing. After Harvard had played for a year
or two with our northern neighbors, Yale was per-
/suaded to adopt these English rules, and in 1876 the
/ first match between two American college teams under
the Rugby Union rules was played. Since that time
the code has undergone many changes, the greater
/number being made necessary by the absolute lack of
I any existing foot-ball lore or tradition on American
soil. The English game was one of traditions. "What
has been done can be done; what has not been done
must be illegal,'' answered any question which was
not fully foreseen in their laws of the game.

For the first few years our college players spent
their time at conventions in adding rules to settle
vexed problems continually arising, to which the Eng-
lish rules offered no solution. In this way the rules

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBIGA 89

rapidly multiplied until the number was quite double
that of the original code. Then followed the process
of excision, and many of the old English rules which
had become useless were dropped. During the last .,;
few years the foot-ball lawmakers have changed but
two or three rules a year. The method of making
alterations has also been perfected.

In order to avoid the petty dissensions incident to
contests so recent that the wounds of defeat are yet
tender, a Rules Committee of graduates has been ap-
pointed, and all alteration of rules is in their hands..
They meet once a year to propose any changes that
appear to them necessary. An Advisory Committee
preceded this body, but with the dissolution of the Inter-
collegiate Foot-Ball Association the Advisory Commit-
tee disappeared. But the break in foot-ball legislation
did not last. This Rules Committee was called into
being by the University Athletic Club of New York, at
the request of several of the colleges. It has been com-
posed of non-partizan members who have carefully
watched the sport and endeavored to foster its best fea-
tures while legislating against any objectionable ten-
dencies. The rules promulgated by this body have been ;[
the standard for all the college games in this country.

No change, then, is possible unless suggested by a
body of men, not immediate participants in the sport,
who have had the benefit of past experience. This
most excellent state of affairs was the result of sugges-
tions emanating from an informal conference held
some years ago in New York, at which were present
members of the faculties of Harvard, Princeton, and
Yale. These gentlemen were at that time carefully

90 WALTEB gamp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

watching the growth of the sport, and were prepared
to kill or encourage it according to its deserts. In 1894
the University Athletic Club of New York proposed
<5ertain changes, which were approved by the Advisory
Committee, and were generally adopted throughout
the country.

" How does the English game differ from the Ameri-
can t** is a very common question, and in answering
it one should first state that there are two games in
England — one "the Rugby,'' and the other "the Asso-
ciation.'' These differ radically, the Association being
more like the old-fashioned sport that existed in this
country previous to the introduction of the Rugby.
In the Association game the players cannot run with
the ball in their hands or arms, but move it rapidly
along the ground with their feet — "dribble the ball,"
as their expression has it. Of course, then, a com-
parison between our game and the Association is out
of the question. To the Rugby Union, however, our
game still bears a striking resemblance, the vital point
of difference being the outlet to the "scrimmage" or
"down." In the English game, when the ball is held
and put down for what they call a " scrummage," both
sides gather about in a mass, and each endeavors by
kicking the ball to drive it in the direction of the
opponent's goal. Naturally, there is a deal of push-
ing and hacking and some clever work with the feet,
but the exact exit of the ball from the "scrummage"
cannot be predicted or anticipated. When it does
roll out, the man who is nearest endeavors to get it
and make a run or a kick. The American scrimmage,

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBIGA 91

while coming directly from the English play, bears
now no similarity to it. Instead of ^ indiscriminate
kicking struggle we have the snap-back and quarter-
back play. The snap-back rolls the ball back with
his hand; the quarter seizes it and passes it to any
man for whom the ball is destined in the plan of the
play. In other respects, with the exception of greater
liberties in assisting a runner, it would not be a very
difficult task to harmonize our game with the British.

QUARTER-BACK TAKING THE BALL.

While the game has in the last ten years grown
rapidly in popular favor, it would not be fair to sup-
pose that aU of the twenty or thirty thousand specta-
tors who gather to witness one of the great matches
have clearly defined ideas of the rules which govern
the contest. Many of the technical terms they hear
used are also Greek to them, and it would undoubtedly
add to their enjoyment of the game to give a few clues
to chief plays of interest.

While awaiting the advent of the players, one looks
down on the field and sees a rectangular space a little

92 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

over a hundred yards long and a trifle more than fifty
yards wide, striped transversely with white lines, which
give it the aspect of a huge gridiron. These lines are
five yards apart, and their only purpose is to assist the
referee in judging distances. There is a rule which
says that in three attempts a side must advance the
ball fi.ve or take it back twenty yards under penalty of
suiTendering it to the opponents. The field is there-
fore marked out with these five-yard lines, by means
of which the referee can readily tell the distance made
at each attempt. The gallows-like arrangements at the
ends of the fi.eld are the goal-posts, and in order to score
a goal the ball must be kicked over a cross-bar extend-
ing between the posts by any kind of a kick except a
" punt.'' That is, it must be by a " drop kick,'' which
is made by letting the ball fall from the hand and
kicking it as it rises from the ground; by a ^^ place
kick," which is from a position of rest on the ground;
or finally even from a rolling kick. A punt is a kick
made by dropping the ball from the hand and kicking
it before it strikes the ground, and such a kick can
under no circumstances score a goal. Scoring is only
possible at the ends of the field, and all the work one
sees performed in the middle of the ground is only the
struggle to get the ball to the goal.

There are two ways in which points may be made;
by kicking the ball, as above described, over the goal,
and by touching it down behind the goal line. A
"safety" is made when a side are so sorely pressed
that they carry the ball behind their oum goal linCj and
not when it is kicked there by the enemy. In the
latter case, it is called a "touchback," and does not

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

F Ffi

•__

^^i

^^■1 M^'^'

t
-^

Iff.'/

94 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OP COLLEGE 8POBTS

score either for or against the side making it. A
"touch-down" is made when a player carries the ball
across his oppanenVs goal line and there has it down^
i. e., either cries " Down " or puts it on the ground ; or
if he secures the ball after it has crossed his opponents'
goal line and then has it " down.'' Such a play entitles
his side to a " try at goal," and if they succeed in kick-
ing the ball over the bar, then the goal only scores and
not the touch-down ; but if they miss the try, they are
still entitled to the credit of the touch-down. A goal
can also be made without the intervention of a touch-
down — that is, it may be kicked direct from the field,
either from a drop kick or a place kick, or even when
it is rolling or bounding along the ground. This latter,
however, is very unusual. In the scoring, the value of
a field-kick goal is only five, of a goal kicked from the
touch-down, six ; if the touch-down does not result in a
goal it counts five, and a safety by the opponents'
counts the other side two.

When the game begins, the ball is placed in the cen-
ter of the field and kicked oflE, as it is termed, by a
player of the side which has lost the choice of goal.
From that time forward, during thirty-five minutes of
actual play, the two sides struggle to make goals and
touch-downs against each other. Of the rules governing
their attempts to carry the ball to the enemy's quarters,
the most important are those of off side and on side.
In a general way it may be said that "oflf side"
means between the ball and the opponents' goal, while
" on side " means between the ball and one's own goal.
A player is barred from handling the ball when in the
former predicament. When a ball has been kicked by

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA gS

a player, all those of his side who are ahead of him —
that is, between him and his opponents' goal — are off
side, and even though the ball go over their heads they
are stiU off side until the ball has been touched by an
opponent, or until the man who kicked it has run up
ahead of them. Either of these two events puts them

A PAIB TACKLE.

on side again. Any player who is on side may run
with and kick the ball, and his opponents may tackle
him whenever he has the ball in his arms. It is fair for
them to tackle him in any way except below the knees.
They must not, however, throttle or choke him, nor
can players use the closed fist. The runner may push
his opponents off with his open hand or arm, in any
way he pleases, and ability to do this well goes far
toward making a successful runner.

When a player having the ball is tackled and fairly
held so that his advance is checked, and he cannot
pass the ball, the player tackling him cries out "Held!'*

96 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OP COLLEGE SPORTS

The runner must say " Down," and the ball is then put
on the ground for a scrimmage. Any player of the
side which had possession of the ball can then put it
in play. Usually the " snap-back,'' as he is called, does
this work. He places the ball on the ground, and then
with his hand rolls the ball back, or kicks it forward or
to one side, generally for a player of his own side to
seize. When the ball is rolled or snapped back, the
man who first received it is called the quarter-back,
and he cannot advance the ball. When, however,
it is kicked sideways or ahead, any one except the
snap-back and the opposing player opposite him can
run with it.

"Free kicks '^ are those where the opponents are
restrained by rule from interfering with the ball or
player until the kick is made. At the commencement
of the game, the side which has lost the choice of goals
has a free kick from the center of the field ; and when
a goal has been scored, the side which has lost it has a
free kick from the same location. Any player who fairly
catches the ball on the fly from an opponent's kick has
a free kick, provided he makes a mark with his heel on
the spot of the catch. A side which has made a touch-
down has a free kick at the goal, and a side which has
made a safety or a touchback has a free kick from any
spot behind the twenty-five-yard line. This line is the
fifth white line from their goal, and upon that mark
the opponents may line up.

A violation of any rule is called a foul, and the other
side has the privilege of putting the ball down where
the foul was made. Certain fouls are punished by ad-
ditional penalties. A player is immediately disquali-

FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 97

fied for striking with the closed fist or unnecessary
roughness. A side loses a certain distance, or the
opponents may have a free kick, as a penalty for
throttling, tripping up, or tackling below the knees.
For off-side play a side loses ten yards. A player
may pass or throw the ball in any direction except
toward his opponents' goal. When the ball goes out
of bounds at the side, it is " put in ^ at the spot where
it crossed the line by a player of the side first securing
the ball. He bounds the ball in and kicks it; or he may,
if he prefers, walk out with it any distance not greater
than fifteen paces, and put it down for a scrimmage.

Of the three individuals one sees on the field in citi-
zen's dress, one is the umpire, one the referee, and the
third the linesman. They are selected to see that the
rules are observed, and to settle any questions arising
during the progress of the game. It is the duty of the
umpire to decide all points directly connected with the
players' conduct, while the referee decides questions of
the position or progress of the ball. The original rules
provided that the captains of the two sides should
settle all disputes ; but this, at the very outset, was so
manifestly out of the question that a provision was
made for a referee. Then, as the captains had their
hands full in commanding their teams, two judges were
appointed, and it was the duty of these judges to make
all claims for their respective sides. These judges soon
became so importunate with their innumerable claims
as to harass the referee beyond all endurance. The
next step, therefore, was to do away with the judges
and leave the referee sole master of the field. Even
then the referee found so much that it was impossible

98 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OP COLLEGE SPOBTS

for him to watch, that it was decided to appoint a
second man, called an umpire, to assist him. This
umpire assumed the responsibility of seeing that
players committed no fouls, thus leaving the referee's
undivided attention to be devoted to following the
course of the baU. The linesman is the latest addition.

This has proved so wonderfully successful that the
base-ball legislators have adopted a system of dividing
the work between two umpires.

There are two general divisions of players — the
" rushers ^ or " forwards,'' so called because they con-
stitute the front rank of the foot-ball army ; and the
backs, called the quarter-back, the half-back or halves,
and the full-back or goal-tend. The quarter has been
already described. The halves, of whom there are two,
play several yards behind the rushers, and do the kick-
ing or running work. The goal-tend is really only a
third half-back, his work being almost the same as
that of the halves.

DEVELOPMENT OP THE NAMES OP THE VABIOUS POSITIONS

When the sport of foot-ball was first introduced
into our American colleges the players were called,
according to their position, forwards, half-backs, and
goal-tends. The forwards were also sometimes spoken
of as rushers, and the goal-tends as backs. These
latter names, apparently, were more suited to the
tastes of the players, so they have become more usual,
and the terms forward and goal-tend are seldom used
Beyond these general divisions there were neither

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBICA 99

distinctive names nor, in the early days, distinctive
duties. One of the first rushers to receive a special
name was the one who put down the ball in a scrim-
mage. Originally the man who happened to have the
ball when the down was made, himself placed it on the
ground. It soon became evident that certain men were
unable to perform this duty so well as others, and it was
not long before the duty was delegated to one man.
As he usually stood in the middle, he was called the
center-rusher. This name has since given place almost
entirely to "snap-back," owing to the universal custom
of playing the scrimmage by snapping the ball back
with the hand.

As the game, after starting with eleven players, was
then altered to fifteen, there was an opening made by
these increased numbers for more positions. It was
in the first days of fifteen men that the quarter-back
play and position first acquired proper form. There
was not only a quarter-back, but also a three-quarter-
back — that is, a player who stood between the half-
backs and the backs. With the return to eleven men
the three-quarter-back disappeared, but the quarter-
back, or man who first received the ball from the scrim-
mage, still remained.

The next position to assume prominence and a name
was that of end-rusher. The two men who played on
the ends of the forward line found unusual opportuni-
ties for the exercise of ingenuity in the sport, and
their duties were more manifold than those of any
of the other rushers. They found opportunities to
make runs, opportunities to drop back a little and
make fair catches of short kicks (for it was then

100 WALTER gamp's BOOK OF COLLEGE 8P0BTS

quite in vogue to make a short kick at Mek-off),
opportunities of running along with a half-back and
receiving the ball from him when he was likely to be
stopped; in fact, to perform the duties of the position
required so many qualities that the best all-round men
were selected for the work, and it became quite a
feather in a man's cap to be an end-rusher. After this
there were but four men on the team who were not
specifically classed and designated. These were the
two next the ends and the two next the center. The
latter took up the name of "guards,'' as they protected
the quarter when the ball was snapped. The former
were called "tackles," probably because, before the
tricks in running were so highly developed as at pres-
ent, a large share of the tackling did fall to them.
This division of players is now universal, and each po-
sition has duties and responsibilities peculiar to itsell
The changes the game has undergone in its gradual
development from the English Rugby are peculiarly
interesting, showing as they do the inventive faculty of
our college players. The way in which the quarter-
back play was suggested and perfected illustrates this
very strongly. Our players began exactly as the Eng-
lishmen, by putting the ball on the ground, closing
around it, and then kicking until it rolled out some-
where. In the first season of this style of scrimmage
play, they made the discovery that, far from being an
advantage to kick the ball through, it often resulted
in a great disadvantage, for it gave the opponents a
chance to secure the ball and make a run. The players,
therefore, would station a man a short distance behind
the scrimmage, and the rushers in front would manage

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBICA 101

to 80 cleverly assist the kicking of the opponents as to
let the ball come through directly to this player, who
had then an opportunity to run around the mass of
men before they realized that the ball had escaped.

Soon an adventurous spirit discovered that he could
so place his foot upon the ball that by pressing sud-
denly downward and backward with his toe he would
drag or snap the ball to the man behind him. At first,
naturally, the snap-back was not suflBciently proficient
to be always sure in his aim, but it did not take long
to make the play a very accurate one, and in the games
to-day, now that the hand is used instead of the foot,
and the snap-back has undisturbed possession of the
ball, it is unusual for the snap-back to fail in properly
sending the ball to his quarter.

Originally the quarter was wont to run with or kick
the ball, but now as a rule he passes it to one of the
halves or to a rusher who has come behind him, in-
stead of making the run himself. The quarter then
directs the course of the play, so that scientific plan-
ning is possible; whereas in the old method the ele-
ment of chance was far greater than that of skill.

One frequently hears old players speak of the " block
game'' and its attendant evils. This was a system of
play by which an inferior team was enabled to escape
defeat by keeping continual possession of the ball
while actually making but a pretense of play. So
great did the evil become, that in 1882 a rule was
made, which has already been mentioned, to the effect
that a side must make an advance of five yards or
retreat ten^ in three scrimmages. The penalty for not

1 This was altered later to twenty yards.

102 WALTER GAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE 8P0BTS

doing this is the loss of the ball to the opponents.
A kick is considered equivalent to an advance, even
though the same side should, by some error of the
opponents, regain the ball when it comes down. The
natural working of this rule, as spectators of the game
will readily see, is to cause a side to make one or two
attempts to advance by the running style of play, and
then, if they have not made the necessary five yards, to
pass the ball back to a half for a kick. The wisdom of
this play is evident. If they find they must lose the
ball, they wish it to fall to their opponents as far down
the field as possible, and so they send it by a long kick
as near the enemy's goal as they can.

One other rule, besides this one, has had a develop-
ment worthy of particular attention. It is the one
regarding the value of the points scored. At first,
goals only were scored. Then touch-downs were
brought in, and a match was decided by a majority
of these, while a goal received a certain equivalent
value in touch-downs. Then the scoring of safeties
was introduced; but only in this way, that in case no
other point was scored a side making four less safe-
ties than their opponents should win the match. A
goal kicked from a touch-down had always been con-
sidered of gi'eater value than a field-kick goal, but it
was not until the scoring had reached the point of
counting safeties, that it was decided to give numeri-
cal values to the various points in order that matches
might be more surely and satisfactorily decided. From
this eventually came the method of scoring as men-
tioned earlier in this article.

A few diagrams illustrative of the general position

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

103

of the players when executing various manoeuvers will
assist the reader in obtaining an insight into the plays.

TOUCH

60AL

2 ^»-=3

K OOo

r -.CO.
o

TOUCH

60AL

IN 60AL

60ALLIKIE F^ GOAL LINE

18 Ft 6 In?
• +6-0 -Feet-

_00

LINE

- s-gtgoisi

T^rb^-^^tj

ST'

o
0._

f'J'o o"o"o.b""'

-S.3.-I-

TWENTY FIVE YARD LINE

160 FEET

I8Ft.6In?

60ALUNE |— I eOALLINE"

IN 60AL

TOUCH

GOAL

H
o

ZmCXJ
mHO

c
z

•CO

TOUCH
GOAL

As there are no hard-and-fast rules for these positions,
they are dependent upon the judgment of each indi-

104 WALTEB gamp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

vidual captain; nevertheless, the diagrams indicate in
a general way the formations most common.

The first diagram shows the measurements of the
field as well as the names of the general positions of
the two teams. While the front rank are all called for-
wards or rushers, distinctive names are given to the
individual positions. These also are noted on this
first diagram.

The forwards of the side which has the kick, "line
up'' even with the ball, while their opponents take up
their positions ten yards away. They are not per-
mitted to approach nearer until the ball is touched
with the foot. Of late years, now that it is the practice
at kick-off to send the ball as far down the field as pos-
sible, the opponents are wont to drop two forwards,
near the ends of the line, back a few yards ; thus pro-
viding for a short kick. The quarter takes his place
in a straight line back from the ball some sixty or sev-
enty feet, while the two halves and the back stand suf-
ficiently distant to be sure of catching a long kick.
The positions of the side kicking the ball are not so
scattered. All their forwards and the quarter stand
even with the ball, ready to dash down the field, while
the halves and back stand only a short distance behind
them, because as soon as the ball is sent down the
field they must be in proper places to receive a return
kick from the opponents.

The kick-off up to 1894 was more apt to be a
" dribble," or a touching the ball with the foot and then
passing or running with it. The result of this was
that the opponents massed more compactly, the halves
and quarter not playing far down the field, and the

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

105

rushers at the ends not dropping back. The side
having the kick, keeping in mind, of course, the par-
ticular play they intended to make, assumed positions
that should the most readily deceive their opponents,
if possible, and yet most favor the success of their
manoeuver.

For instance, the most common opening play was
the " wedge ^ or " V.^ In diagrams 2 and 3 are shown

OOOgOOj>

o o o
DIAGRAM 3.

DIAGRAM 3.

the positions in this play. As the players "lined ouf*
they assumed as nearly as possible the regular forma-
tion, in order that their opponents might not at once
become too certain of their intention. As soon, how-
ever, as play had been called, one saw the rushers clos-
ing up to the center and the player who was to make
the running dropping in close behind the man who was to
play the ball. Diagram 2 illustrates the position at the
moment of the kick-off. The kicker touched the ball
with his foot, picked it up and handed it to the ninner
who was coming just behind him. The forwards at once
dashed forward, making a V-shaped mass of men, just
within the angle of which trotted the runner. Diagram
3 shows them at this point.

But this wedge no sooner met the opposing line,

106

WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

than the formation became more or less unsteady, exactly
in proportion to the strength and skill of the opponents.
Against untrained players the wedge moved without great
difficulty, often making twenty or thirty yards before it
was broken. Skilful opponents would tear it apart much
more speedily. The same principles still apply, but al-
terations in the rules have done away with these wedges.
Now came the most scientific part of the play —
namely, the outlet for the runner and ball. There were

f^\r-y^

DIAOBAM 4.

DIAGRAM 5.

two ways of successfully making this outlet. One was
to have a running half-back moving along outside the
wedge, taking care to be a little behind the runner, so
that the ball might be passed to him without committing
the foul of passing it ahead. When the wedge began
to go to pieces, the ball was dexterously thrown out to
him, and he had an excellent opportunity for a run,
because the opposing rushers were so involved in break-
ing the wedge that they would not get after him quickly.
Diagram 4 illustrates this. The second, and by far the
most successful when well played, was for two of the for-
wards in the wedge to suddenly separate and in their
separation to push their opponents aside with their
bodies, so that a pathway was opened for the runner, so
he might dart out with the ball. Diagram 5 shows this.

FOOT-BALL IN AMEKIOA

107

Mass and wedge plays have been very mnch curtailed,
and with design, by the insistence upon more kicking.
Every kick-off and free kick had come to be the signal
for a wedge. Now, thanks to the rules, they can be
used but seldom.

The formation of the side which has the ball in a
scrimmage, next occupies our attention. As stated
before in this section, it is customary for them to make
two attempts to advance the ball by a run before
resorting to a kick. There is some slight difference in
the ways they form for these two styles of play. Dia-
gram 6 shows the formation just previous to the run.
The forwards are lined out, blocking their respective
opponents, while the halves and backs generally bunch
somewhat in order to deceive the opponents as to

DIAGRAM 6.

DIAGRAM 7.

which man is to receive the ball, as well as to assist
him, when he starts, by blocking off the first tacklers.
Diagram 7 shows the line of a half-backus run
through the rushers. A and B endeavor, as he comes,
to separate (by the use of their bodies, for they cannot
use their hands or arms to assist their runner) the two
rushers in front of them, that the runner may get
through between them.

108

WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OP COLLEGE SPOBTS

^%PpO

DIAGRAM 8.

Diagram 8 shows still another phase of the running-
game, where a rusher runs around behind the quarter,
taking the ball from him on the run and making for
an opening on the other side, or
even on the very end.

Diagram 9 shows the formation
when, having made two attempts
and not having advanced the ball
five nor lost twenty yards, the
side prefers to take a kick rather
than risk a third failure, which
would give the ball to the opponents on the spot of
the next " down.'' The formation
is very like that for the run, ex-
cept that the distance between the
forward line and the halves is
somewhat increased and the three
men are strung out rather more.
Let us now consider the forma-
tion of the opposing side during
these plays. There is but one formation for the op-
ponents in facing the running-
game, and that is according to
diagram 10. Of course they alter
this whenever they have the good
fortune to discover where the run
is to be made, but this is seldom
so evident as to make much of

ooooeo<

DIAGRAM 0.

DIAGRAM 10.

an alteration in formation safe.
Their forwards line up, and their quarter as well
as halves go up to the rush line wherever they
find the danger point. Their halves stand fairly

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

109

DIAGRAM 11.

dose up behind, and their back only a kicking dis-
tance further toward the goal. The formation, after
the two attempts to ran have failed, is, however, quite
different in respect to one half-
back and the back. They at once
run rapidly back until they are
both at a considerable distance
from the forwards. The back
stands as far as he thinks it pos-
sible for the opposing half to
kick, under the most favorable
circumstances, while the half stands perhaps forty or
fifty feet in advance, ready to take the ball from a
shorter kick. Some teams keep both halves in the line
sending quarter back on this play. Diagi'am 11 illus-
trates this.

In a " fair,'' or putting the ball in from the touch (see
diagi*am 12), the same general formation prevails as in
the ordinary scrimmage, for it is really nothing more
than a scrimmage on the side of the field instead of in
the middle. It counts the same as an ordinary "down''
in respect to the necessity of ad-
vancing five yards — that is, if a
side has made one attempt, from
a down, to advance, and has car-
ried the ball out of bounds, and
then makes another unsuccessful
attempt to advance, but is obliged
to have the ball down again, with-
out accomplishing the five-yard gain, it must on the
next attempt make the distance or surrender the ball.
After a touch-down has been made, if a try-at-goal is

DIAGRAM 12.

DIAOHAM 13.

no WALTEB camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE 8P0BTS

attempted by a place-kick, the formation is somewhat
similar to a kick-oflf. (See diagram 13.) The man who
is to place the ball lies flat on his stomach with the
ball in his hands, taking care that
until the kicker is ready it does
not touch the ground, as that
permits the opponents to charge.
The position of the opponents in
this play is necessarily limited,
for they are obliged to stand be-
hind their goal until the ball is
kicked. The same diagram (13) shows the position
they assume. Their rushers undertake to run for-
ward and stop the ball, while their halves and back
are ready, in case it misses, to make a touchback.

These diagi*ams cover the most important plays of
the game, and give one an insight into the general
manipulation of the players during the match.

COACHING

The time was, and that not so very long ago, when
a captain could easily do all of the coaching that was
expected, and if some of the older players came back
for a few days, it was merely to look over the men and
give a few words of advice as to the conduct of the im-
portant match. If one could give the rushers a little
lecture stimulating them to hard work in the game,
and a bit of encouragement to the halves, the duty of
the coach was performed. To-day the available men —
those who have served upon the best teams as players

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 111

— are as eagerly sought after for coaches as are experts
in any branch of sport, and every team is put under the
hands of a coach for at least part of the season. And
it is this coaching by men who know the game thor-
oughly that has done so much for the sport. *It has
spread the knowledge of the finer points of the play —
not alone the sti'ategies, but the best methods — as no
other system could have done. East, West, and South
the skilled players have gone, not to play, but to teach
the coming foot-ball player how to use his strength
and skill to the best advantage.

The duties of the coach are manifold. He must
know the most approved training, and must be able to
direct the diet and amount of exercise to be taken.
He must be able to handle a team without having any
member get "too fine,'' or overtrained, and see that the
men are in condition to stand the two three-quarter
hours of a match. He must be able to preserve good
discipline among the men, and, greatest perhaps of all,
be able to make them work in perfect harmony. These
are the duties of the captain as well, and the coach and
the captain must always work together upon these
points ; but without any conflict of their powers, the
captain should always remember that a coach ought
to be positive. The suggestions I have endeavored to
embody here are for captain, coach, and player; but
they are intended for suggestions rather than absolute
directions; and just as any one must meet special
exigencies with special methods, so must the coach
remember that if his governing principles be correct,
he can often, to advantage, vary the application.

112 WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE 8P0ETS

THE FIELD AND MATEBIALS

As this book may fall into the hands of boys who
have the wish and the spirit to become foot-ball
players, but who do not enjoy the advantages of those
in large preparatory schools or colleges, I shall take
up the very beginning, and speak of the laying-out of
the field, as well as the makeshifts sometimes rendered
necessary. The ground for a field ought to be 400 feet
long by 200 feet wide, although the field of play of
regulation size is only 330 feet long and 160 feet wide.
The additional distance at the ends is desirable to
allow space for touch-downs and for kicks crossing the
goal line. The space beyond the sides, or touch lines,
is advisable in order that a player may not, when
forced into touch, be pushed against a fence, and so
run the risk of an injury. If it be impossible to get a
field allowing space at the ends and sides, it is better
to cut down a little from the regulation measurements
in laying it out, so as to allow at least ten feet at the
ends and eight feet at the sides. Having marked out
the outer boundaries with plainly appearing lime lines,
the marking of the transverse lines is next in order.
These run across the field from side to side at every
five yards, thus making 21 lines between the ends, or,
counting the end lines, 23 in all. Of these the 25-yard
lines — that is, the fifth one out from each goal —
should be broader than the others, to distinguish the
line of kick-out. Also the middle of the field — that is,
the center of the eleventh five-yard line — should be
marked with a broad white spot to indicate the place

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBIOA 113

of kick-off. The easiest and most satisfactory way to
do this marking is, after the outer boundary lines are
made, to stretch the tape down each side line, and
drive small stakes every five yards. Then let two boys
hold a string from one stake to the opposite one while
the marker is run over the string. The setting up of
the goal-posts is the next undertaking, and is not an
easy matter. To determine their position stretch the
tape across the end of the field, and mark the middle
of the end line — that is, 80 feet from each side. Then
measure off each way a distance of 9 feet 3 inches,
and the two points for the posts will be thus deter-
mined. The posts themselves may be of any material
available, and of any size timber; but the best post is
of cedar or cheetnut, — although jpine will answer, —
tapering slightly, and about four inches by three
inches at the base. The posts should be sufficiently
long, so that, when set securely into the ground, they
shall stand over 20 feet high. A cross-bar, sufficiently
over 18 feet 6 inches long to allow for its lap, should
be fastened across these posts ten feet from the
ground-level — that is, so that when set up, the up-
right posts shall be exactly 18 feet 6 inches apart,
and the cross-bar ten feet from the ground. I have
given these measurements in this way because it will
be found much more convenient to cut the posts to the
proper height, and secure the cross-bars, before the
posts are set up in the ground. The posts should have
no braces attached to them, but be made firm by sink-
ing them, and packing them well down into the ground.
It is dangerous to put braces upon them, because the
players may trip over them, or be forced against them,

114 WALTEB gamp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SP0BT8

and so sustain serious injury. The field having been
marked out, and the goal-posts erected, one at each
end as above described, the ball must be next, con-
sidered. This unfortunately cannot be of home manu-
facture to advantage. On account of the skill to be
acquired in properly handling and kicking it, it is
best that players should never use anything but the
regulation ball. It is possible, however, to secure
second-hand balls from almost any of the crack teams,
and that too at a considerable reduction from the cost
price. The regulation ball is of the size No. 5, and the
English ball was formerly standard; but within the last
years the Intercollegiate Association has accepted an
American ball made by Spalding.

This used to bear the stamp, "Adopted by the Inter-
collegiate Foot-ball Association.^ I have elsewhere
commented at length upon the clothing, but I want to
add a word about the use of protecting material. There
is no reason why a foot-ball player should subject him-
self to the needless ache of old scrapes and bruises, as
he did some years ago. If it added anything to the
value of the sport, he might continue to suffer; but
it does not. Therefore I would say most emphatically
that if a player receives a bruise or scrape on the shin,
he had better put on a shin-guard at once, and con-
tinue to wear it at least until the need for it is past. If
his knees are scraped or bruised he should have a few
pieces of sponge sewed into the knees of his trousers,
and he will find that the hurt will not trouble him fur-
ther, and will speedily get well. Any severe bruise in
the muscles of the leg should be protected until the
soreness disappears. An injury to the nose or mouth
can be protected by the use of a nose-guard, and bruises

FOOT-BALL IN AMEEIOA 115

on the head by padding the cap. Similarly a pad is
worn over a tender ear, and held in place by a band of
surgeon's plaster over the forehead. All this may give
the casual reader a false impression of the accidents
of the game ; but these bruises and scratches are not
serious, and the reason for thus protecting the injured
member is not that the injury itself is of any moment,
but that the player may still enjoy his sport without
the irritation caused by some of these slight mishaps.

A recent improvement in shoes has been the intro-
duction of an ankle-supporter of leather, which, having
been tried by the Yale team for several years, has
proved almost a complete safeguard against sprained
ankles. It consists simply of a thin anklet going about
the ankle and under the instep, and lacing tightly. It
may be attached to the shoe or not, but always goes
inside. Another improvement has been in the form
of leather or rubber spikes, supplanting the old-
fashioned straight strip across the shoe. These offer
a better hold for the runner, and do not require re-
newal any oftener than the old strip.

THE PLAYEKS

As to the game itself, it often happens, not only at
small towns, but even at schools, — and in my time I
have known it to happen on the Varsity field, — that
there are not enough players to make up eleven on a
side. Many times the sport is not undertaken because
it is not possible to be sure of twenty-two men. Now,
this is a great mistake ; for even if short six men, al-
most all the plays can be effected, and the sport be just

116 WALTEB camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE 8P0BTS

as enjoyable and equally good practice. If short one
man on a side, drop out a half or a back, playing with
but two men behind the quarter ; if short two men on
a side, drop the half or back and one rusher ; if short
three men on a side, drop the half or back and two
rushers. The game can be played by still smaller
numbers in like fashion; but less than eight on a side
breaks up the method materially. To consider the
other side of the question, which now is by far
the more common in the large schools and colleges —
namely, how to use more than twenty-two men. The
side which opposes the Varsity — the scrub side, as it
is called — should always make up by numbers, in the
days of early practice, what it lacks in physique and
skill. The second eleven, as it is called, even though
composed of more than eleven players, should be
under the. direction of a competent captain, who han-
dles them as the captain or coach handles the 'varsity.
The great value of the second eleven depends upon
the ability of its captain, and a large proportion of the
strength and skill of the 'varsity comes directly from
the opposition which the second eleven can daily offer.
In the early days of practice, as I say, the numbers
of the second eleven can be almost unlimited — that
is, the captain may play three, or even four, extra
men in the line, and four, or even more, extra behind
it. But after a time, when team play for the 'varsity
begins, it is well not to give the second eleven more
than two extra men in the line, although there may
still be kept several extra men behind it, as halves and
backs. With the last week or two of practice, only
one extra man should be allowed in the line, and two

POOT-BALL IN AMEEICA 117

extra halves or backs. Sometimes it is also advisa-
ble, particularly if the second eleven is exceptionally
strong, to play half an hour each day of the last week
or so with but eleven men, so that the Varsity may
make a fair test of all its trick plays and combinations,
and learn what the difficulties may be in carrying them
out against the regular number of players.

There is one other way of practising a Varsity team;
for instance, when, after mid-season, they have become
so strong in their playing as to make it impossible
to give them really hard work without adding to the
number of players upon the scrub side. This method
is one of the most effective I know of when there is
a ground admitting of it. I refer to practising upon
a field not level and having the Varsity team play up
hill. The great advantage of this is that it preserves
the conditions existing in a match of an equal number
of men and yet gives the scrub side the advantage
in all pushing and mass plays. I have seen a team
trained upon such a ground, and found that the ad-
vantage of it was marked.

GENERALSHIP

In another book I have gone into the detail of the
individual positions, and here I shall pay more atten-
tion to giving captains and players some brief sugges-
tions in the generalship of the game, and developing
combinations that will enable them to get the most
value out of the material they have. In the first place,
there is no point upon which more depends than the

118 WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOET&

absolute power of the captain. Upon this one of the
best writers upon English Rugby Union foot-ball is
thoroughly in accord with me. I refer to Mr. Harry
Vassall. The captain should have sole power to select
his team. He may take the advice of his coach, or
of committees; but the putting of a man on or the
dropping of him oflE should rest in his hands alone. In
this way only can he properly fulfil the duties of his
position and secure the thorough command over his
men that such a position demands. He should be a
masterful man, and so self-reliant in emergencies that
his men will naturally stand by him and look to him
for advice, help, and commands. His relations with
his men should, however, be such that he is always
ready to listen to suggestions, — never, or very seldom,
on the field, but after the play is over.

One of the great secrets of good team play lies in
adapting each play most carefully to the men taking
part in it. K a team be a heavy team, but with no fast
runners, the general study must be toward wedge and
mass playing — that is, the team must be taught in
every possible way to make use of their weight : not to
attempt to outpace their opponents, but to crash them
back. If, on the other hand, the team be a light, fast
one, the development of the play should be along the
lines of quick and deceptive movements, combined
with double passes, criss-crosses, and a fair variety of
trick plays. In many cases a team may be in neither
category, that is, neither especially heavy nor, on the
other hand, below the average in weight or above it
in point of general activity. Then the team play must
be based upon the especial capabilities of some one or

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBIGA 119

more men, usually those behind the line. With a good
punter every possible advantage should be taken of the
kicking game. The ends should be given the greatest
attention, so as to render them sufficiently fast and ex-
pert in tackling to be sure of holding the ground
gained by the punter. The center should be made ab-
solutely certain of his long snap-back, so that he may
be able to place the ball exactly where the kicker
wishes it. The tackles should also be taught to back
up the ends in going down the field, and thus every
possible means be employed to make the exceptional
punting sure of reaping its due reward. In case a
team has a very fast, strong half-back, a man far above
the average in running ability, not only should plays
be developed which call for him to carry the ball to the
extent of his endurance, but, if he be a good catcher of
punts, he should be the man sent back to catch the
kicks of the enemy, and thus secure additional op-
portunity for the display of his running ability.

In making all team and combination plays in foot-
ball there are several distinct points to be borne in
mind, and from the very beginning of his foot-ball days
the player and captain who wishes to succeed must
study his play in relation to these points. To take
these up in order, the first is to make use of a play, if
possible, for which the opponents are the least prepared.
This may be accomplished in two distinct ways. It may
be done by masking or disguising the play, or it may
be done by making the move and getting the ball in mo-
tion quickly before the opponents are ready for any play
at all. The first method is by far the easiest, because it
depends only upon a few easily learned tricks of for-

120 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE 8P0ETS

mation. The latter is the more difficult, because it
takes the greater part of a season's entire practice and
coaching to make a team competent to play a fast
game. But it is well worth while to combine the two,
for they go admirably together, and a fast team is al-
most always a clever one, and usually a very reliable
one. To disguise a play, the simplest method is to
study out an arrangement of men of such a nature
that the resulting move — the final outlet for the run-
ner — may be varied without alteration in the first
formation. Thus a wedge may be formed which shall
start forward with the runner in the center and yet
let him out either directly in front or at one side or
the other. The signal given when the wedge is form-
ing indicates to the runner and his assistants which
outlet will be used, and the opponents are utterly
unable from the position of the men to tell which the
outlet will be. This prevents them from massing their
men, and so renders the success of the play far greater.
Similarly an occasional pretended kick altering into
a run may prove very successful, as well as being de-
moralizing to the opponents. In such a case the ball
is passed back as for a kick, and the man who receives
it instead of kicking it dodges his man and runs for
the end ; or the ball may be passed to some one else
who has escaped observation and who darts through
the line from close quarters.

This play serves still another purpose in that it
alarms the opponents and prevents their coming down
so rapidly and freely at the kicker in future plays,
because they remember the pretended kick and en-
deavor to guard against it. The criss-cross or double
pass is another excellent example of a disguised play,

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBICA 121

the ball being passed by^ the quarter to one of the
backs, who starts rapidly for one end of the line, but
after going a few steps hands, or tosses, the ball to his
companion who is going in the opposite direction and
who carries the ball to the other end, which has prob-
ably been more or less weakened by the eflEorts of the
men on that side to cross over and protect the end
they fancied was to be assailed. One of the most re-
markable of these disguised plays was the opening
wedge practised by the Harvard team in 1892. This
play was made by dividing the team into two parts,
one consisting of the heavier men, the other of the
lighter, but faster, ones. These two parts were placed
the former some ten and the latter some fifteen yards
behind the ball, and out two thirds of the way toward
touch on each side. A runner was placed behind the
heavier mass, a pretending, or " fake," runner nearer
the middle, and a man at the ball to put it in play. At
a given signal the two bodies of men started converg-
ing toward the ball, which was not put in play until all
were close upon it. Then, while the ball was being
played and handed to the runner, the two bodies united
and, turning toward the side of the lighter and faster
men, moved diagonally up the field. The play was
susceptible of a complete change in direction by send-
ing the combined masses to either the right or the left,
as well as by using the fake runner, and was therefore
a capital development of the masked play.

Working along the lines as suggested by these ex-
amples, the player and captain can bring out plenty
of original plays, for the possibilities of the game in
that direction are by no means exhausted.

As to the use of his men in combination plays, the

122 WALTEB GAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEQE 8P0BTS

captain must consider that, while disguising plays is
advisable, there are extremes. For instance, the meth-
ods that require hard work of each member of the
team while only half enter into the real play, should
not be resorted to too frequently, because it exhausts
the men without compensating gain; and when the
opponents secure the ball, the defensive play is found
materially weakened by the condition of the men.

But besides the various advantages to be gained
by taking the opponents at unexpected points, or by
rapidity of play attacking them when unprepared,
one should also consider the value of a persistent as-
sault upon a known weak point, or upon a portion
of the team already materially weakened by repeated
assaults. As examples of the first, one may consider
the case of a team whose halves and backs are poor
catchers. In this case a judicious use of long high
punts of a twisting variety, well followed up by the
forwards, will often result in securing touch-downs, or
repeated long gains, from their muflSng. Here it is
not material that the play be disguised ; in fact, some-
times the very knowledge that the kick is coming, will
render a poor catcher all the more unsteady and ner-
vous. Again it may be well known that the center
of the line of the opponents has proved in former
matches essentially weak, and in that case undisguised
forcing of that point may give repeated gains, besides
discouraging the balance of the team, who are power-
less to prevent the advance. Or one end may be weak,
and grow even weaker when forced to continual effort

In the second case, that more especially of tiring out
a part of the line, more care should be used. The

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBIOA 123

plays should not be all alike, but all directed at this
one point, and played in as rapid succession as pos-
sible. The same man should not be made the runner
by the assaulting team, but kept fresh by the variation
of their action, and throwing the hardest work succes-
sively upon different men, while the same two or three
men of the opponents are forced to meet it. The more
men that are given a chance in these plays the better,
because their combined force results in materially
adding to the strength of the play.

There is one other vital point which should be al-
ways borne in mind by the captain when using his
plays in a game, and that is the possibility of an acci-
dental loss of the ball. This caution applies more par-
ticularly to trick plays and passing than to mass plays,
because in the latter the loss of the ball seldom means
a serious matter. In a trick play, however, the very
formation of the men is likely to operate disastrously,
by giving the opponent who secures the ball a chance
for a long run. In passing, also, especially long pass-
ing, the same caution must be observed, and the cardi-
nal rule, therefore, in both cases is not to venture such
plays when within one's own 25-yard line, on account
of the risk of the opponents securing a touch-down if
a fluke be made.

KICKING, CATOmNG, AND PASSING

The especially skilful features of foot-ball outside of
team play are the kicking, catching, and passing. It
is in these that the novice finds himself immediately

124 WALTEB camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

inferior to the expert, and it is upon these that individ-
ual practice is essential. Of the three, passing belongs
more particularly to the province of one player only—
the quarter^back; for it is he who must receive the ball
from the snap-back and deliver it to some other player.
His passes vary, being sometimes long, — nearly across
the field, perhaps, — and at other times consisting
merely of handing the ball to a man, or even holding it
to be taken out of his hands by the man as he goes by.
All this requires practice; for there is a right and a
wrong way. In the short passing, the wrong way
upsets the man who receives the ball; and in the long
passing, the quarter may not be able to throw the ball
swiftly enough to have it reach the recipient safely.
The best way to make a long pass is to place the ball
in the hand so that the end rests upon the point where
the fingers join the palm. The fingers are curled up
so that the ball if held in the hand rests as though in a
cup at its base, and lies against the fore-arm with its
side. In throwing it, a side-arm swing is used, and the
ball is whirled through the air turning upon its short
axis, the fingers giving it an additional snap as it leaves
them. The ball should be sent as nearly on a line as
possible. In short passing, not so much force is needed,
and when handed to another player it should be held by
the quarter by the ends, one hand on each end and the
arms a little extended, so that the runner may grasp it
securely without striking the quarter's body.

Catching is something to be learned only after days
of constant practice, and it is one of the most im-
portant points in the play of the two half-backs and
the back. As a punt may traverse a distance of fifty

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBIOA 125

yards, a muff may mean a loss of that distance, plus
whatever the lucky man securing the ball may after-
ward gain in an almost clear field. A muff is the most
serious mistake that a player behind the line can
make. To be' a good catcher, a man must have the
natural qualities of coolness and pluck, and he must
perform the act properly. The ball should not be
caught as a base-ball is, — in the hands only,— but
the arms should assist, while the body — and even the
upper part of the leg — may add to the absolute secur-
ity of the catch. There is one spot, where the ball
must not be caught, and that is on the chest. More
backs are guilty of this error than any other one on
the list. A man who catches the ball high, or takes it
on his chest, is never a sure catcher, and almost always
gets into difficulties before a game is over. The ball
should be caught low, — "in the stomach,^ as the boys
express it, — that is, below the chest, and where, by
bending the body forward and stooping perhaps a trifle
just as the ball settles into the hands and arms, it ren-
ders it almost impossible for the ball to escape, even
though the player be tumbled over. The best catchers
make this kind of a pocket for the ball, using the
hands and arms to catch it, and also the body to make
it sure, sometimes even drawing up the leg a trifle;
but this last is hardly necessary.

Kicking is divided into three kinds — place-kicking,
punting, and drop-kicking. No one of these varieties
has been sufficiently developed by American players.
It is only necessary to state that men have place-kicked
goals from the middle of the field, to demonstrate the
fact that we are not up to the highest mark. We have

126 WALTEB gamp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

brought out but one side of place-kicking, — namely,
the goal-kicking from touch-downs, — and even that
imperfectly. Long place-kicking from fair catches is
seldom seen, and mainly because there are no men
who can perform the part. A fair catch, when there
is no wind, or a favoring wind, should yield a goal
from as far back as the forty-yard line with moderate
frequency, and be a "fighting chance'* from ten yards
back of that.

To place-kick, the ball should be pointed, for short
kicks, nearly upright, and then lowered as the distance
to be kicked increases, but the point never brought so
low that the force is not in a line with the long axis of
the ball. The placer of the ball should hold it with
the lacing up, and the kicker should sight along the
upper seam. The placer should hold the ball with both
hands, just oflE the ground, resting his elbow; the lower
hand should be well under, but not upon the lower tip,
and the fingers of the upper hand steadying the ball
just above the lacing. As he sets the ball down, he
turns his under hand fiat on the ground so that it does
not interfere with the ball, and steadies the ball with
one or two fingers of the upper hand as it is kicked
out from under by the kicker. He does not let go of
the ball. The kicker should "cock up** the toes of his
foot well, so that the foot is firm and the toe of the
shoe catches the ball just below the lower point.

In punting, the ball is kicked with the instep and
not with the toe. The ball should be dropped — not
tossed; merely dropped — from the hand to the foot as
the swing is being made, and should be struck upon
the point by the top of the instep. The swing may be

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBIOA 127

a straight one or somewhat of a side swing, but the
foot strikes the ball squarely in either case. The ball
should not be too near the ground ; something over a
foot in the clear is the proper height, except for special
kicks, and the full weight of leg and body put into it,
as hereafter described, for the drop-kick. Accuracy
should be an aim of the punter as much as distance.
He should practise daily at some kind of a mark, and
steadily increase his distance from that mark. A little
felt padding over the top of the foot and instep, so
that the shoe laces snugly, is conducive to good punt-
ing as well as good kicking of all kinds.

There are three distinct styles of drop-kicking, and all
of them good: first, the drop-kick, using but one hand
to hold and drop the ball, the point being toward the
goal, and taking a good, slightly side, swing in the
kick; second, holding the ball in a similar position,
but by the use of both hands ; and third, holding the
ball in both hands, but with the point tilted backward,
or away from the goal. In all three cases the dropping
of the ball and the. kicking are similar. The ball is
dropped directly to the ground, falling so that it
strikes the turf not exactly upon the point, but leaning
off the perpendicular some twenty degrees or so. Just
as it strikes, or rather just as it rises off the ground,
the foot swinging forward catches it squarely with
the toe and drives it as it does in a place-kick. Good
drop-kickers send the ball fifty yards and over,
although few of them are dangerous in a game unless
they get nearer than that. Drop-kicking as well as
punting should be practised with men coming down at
the kicker in order to accustom him to the conditions

128 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

which he will find always prevailing in a game. It is
the duty of the captain to determine when in a game
a drop should be tried, and his decision must depend
upon the accuracy and reliability of his kicker, the
score and time of the game, and, finally, the condition
of his team as to their ability to reach the line without
losing the ball if the drop be given up.

The above suggestions can hardly be called direc-
tions, for to make them as extended as one would like
would take up an almost indefinite number of pages.
They are merely suggestions that even the novice can
begin his work upon and be sure that if he will supple-
ment them with ideas of his own and unremitting
practice he will be able to make himself a player of
value to any team. The sport is farthest of all college
sports from the limit of its development, and the boys
now in the lower forms of the preparatory schools will
play better foot-ball in their college teams than that we
are seeing now, if they will but put the same interest
in it that their predecessors have. Play strictly under
the mles, but never be afraid of a play because it is a
new or unheard-of one, is the best advice I can give to
the coming players.

GENERAL STRATEGY OF THE GAME

It would be to leave the subject of foot-ball but half
completed, did one fail to touch upon the larger strate-
gies of a campaign, and to show how the almost un-
limited lesser plays, when properly grouped, prove
irresistible in adv^aneing the ball. The first thing to

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

129

be considered is the material at the captain's com-
mand. The foot-ball player can never be educated to
a pitch of machine-like perfection, nor will any amount
of training make him absolutely untiring. It is there-
fore necessary to start with the premise that no one

This picture shows the finally successful tackle of a runner who has
evidently made a dashing run, throwing off the men until several
have tackled him together, and, by throwing themselves upon him, at
last brought him to a standstill.

or two men can do all the work. The object must be
to use each man to the full extent of his capacity with-
out exhausting any. To do this scientifically involves
placing the men in such positions on the field that
each may perform the work for which he is best fitted,
and yet not be forced to do any of the work toward
which his qualifications and training do not point.
From this necessity grew the special divisions of

130 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

players as indicated in another paragraph. It might
seem that this division of players would take all re-
sponsibility from the captain's shoulders; but it does
not do this by any means. It only insures some sort of
regularity of work for each individual. For instance, a
rusher will never be called upon to drop-kick a goal,
nor will a half be forced to snap-back the ball.

There still remains the possibility of giving any one
of these men so much work of his own special kind
to perform as will exhaust him, and thus make it im-
practicable to call upon him when he is most needed.
Here is an element quite dissimilar to any entering
into our other popular sport, base-ball. If one might
suppose that it were possible in that game to let the
most rapid base runner do as much of the running for
the rest of the nine as the captain chose, we should
have a temptation similar to that which assails the
foot-ball captain. It would not be improbable that
this chosen runner would become exhausted under cer-
tain circumstances; and should he happen to be the
pitcher as well, the results would prove fatal to the
success of his nine. It seems as if no amount of calm
reasoning can convince the average foot-ball captain
of this fundamental principle. Year after year has the
" one man ^ game been attempted, and year after year
it has brought to grief the team attempting it. Nor
is it enough for a captain merely to transfer the play

The picture on the opposite page shows a try-at-goal by a place-kick.
The forwards are lined out across the field, each one careful to be behind
the ball when it is kicked. The man l\'ing on the ground is pointing the
ball at the goal under the direction of the half-back. This man stands
back Severn] yards, as the kick is evidently to be a long one.

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

131

132 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

from one player to another in order not to exhaust any.
He must do this at the proper time, and not at hap-
hazard. His best runner will be needed at some criti-
cal moment, and at just that moment must he be used.
Forwards must not be given too much running to do
early in a game, or their tackling and getting through
will suffer. It is a serious mistake to take the edge off
their strength until one is certain of the style and force
of the adversary's running. As a policy which, while
not infallible, will be most uniformly successful, the
following may be laid down :

Save the rushers as much as possible until the
enemy have had an opportunity to send two or three
of their (presumably) best formations against them;
then, if the line holds these men without difficulty, the
rushers can be used more freely for general play.

The halves and back should not be given any tack-
ling to do in the beginning of the game. Insist upon
the rushers attending to their business so thoroughly
as to avoid all possibility of a runner coming through.

It may seem a strange thing to make such a state-
ment as this, but coaches will bear me out when I
say that there are many teams which go into games
with a line of rushers who do not get warmed up until
a runner or two have come clear through them and
been tackled by the halves or back. This is all wrong,
and can be prevented by a few words before the game.

These ideas regarding the use of material will sug-
gest the details to any thoughtful captain.

The next point to be considered is the adversary.
In the great games, a captain usually has some know-
ledge of his rivals' strength and resources before he

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 133

faces them on the field. Even though he may not
have this knowledge, fifteen minutes of play ought to
give him a fairly accurate idea of the weaknesses and
strong points of his adversary. It then remains for him
to take advantage of this knowledge. It is well nigh a
rule, so common is it, that a team has a strong side and
a weak one. Without intention, this state of affairs
comes to exist toward the end of a season. At this
weak side of the opponents, then, must the early efforts
of a team be directed. When a punt becomes neces-
sary, let the ball be driven over on that side. When
an opposing runner comes, force him in that direction.
Keep a steady press upon the weak side, and before
the game is half over the result will be most marked.

Next, if the opponents in the line prove to be high
tacklers, a captain should make constant use of his low
runners, "bucking the line'' hard and often. If the
opposing backs are new or green men, he should see
that they have plenty of kicks to catch.

Another important point is to make the most of any
natural advantages, existing at the moment, in the
force and direction of the wind, the slant and con-
dition of the ground, and the position of the sun.
These are elements of success which no team can afford
to ignore. The writer has seen a team start out with
a strong wind and the sun at their backs, and actually
throw away half an hour of the first three quarters
by a running game without score. Then, evidently
realizing their mistake, they began to kick, and suc-
ceeded in making two goals in the remaining fifteen
minutes. Whenever a favorable wind is anything
more than moderate, a captain is inexcusable who ex-

134 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGIS SPORTS

hausts his men by holding too closely to his running
game, no matter if his runners be excellent. A wind
which blows diagonally across the field is by no means
to be despised; for if a captain will work the ball to
the windward side, on his runs and passes, his kicking
will be greatly assisted. The sun, too, plays an im-
portant part, particularly when it is low in the horizon

The picture on p. 135 illustrates the typical feature of the American j
in distinction from the English ; namely, the open scrimmage. The bUl is
placed on the ground, and the snap-back stands (usually with his hand in-
stead of his foot) upon it, and when his quarter-back gives him the signal that
all are ready he snaps it backward. The quarter receives it and passes it to
another of his own side for a kick or run. The position of the players in this
picture is excellent, showing, as it does, the points of play as one can see
them only in an actual game. Beginning at the left of the picture, we see the
end-rusher of the side which has not the ball. With his eyes fixed npon
the center with the keenest attention, he awaits the first movement of the
ball to dash through at the man who is likely to receive it. His opponent
stands watching him with equal intensity, ready to block him at the mo-
ment he starts. Next stands the tackle, apparently perfectly oblivious
of the man facing him, and there is a confidence expressed in his attitude
which assures one that this man, at least, will get throughjike a flash
when the ball goes. Then there are two men, both stooping forward so
that one sees but a leg of each. Of these two one is the guard and the
other the quarter-back, who, seeing a chance of getting through, has run
up into this opening. The opposing guard is straightening himself up, in
order to cover, if possible, both these opponents. If one may judge firom
appearances, however, ho will be tumbled over most unceremoniously by
the onslaught of the guard and quarter. The center-rush is braced for a
charge, and with mouth open for breath awaits the first movement of his
opponent. He, the snap-back, has just placed his foot upon the ball, and
is ready to send it back us soon aK the quarter, whose back and leg are
just visible, shall give him the signal. The two men in the foreground
are opposing guards, one of whom is ready to dash forward, and the other
to ))lock. The man who is about to block has his hands clasped, in order
that he may be sure not to use them to hold his opponent, as that is an
infringement of the rule. The other men in the rush-line we cannot see,
but one can rest assured that they are as wide awake to their duties as the
eager ones in view. Behind the gi'oup stands the referee with his arms
folded and eyes intent upon the ball.

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

135

136 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

SO that a low punt, driven hard at the half-back, forces
him to face directly at the sun in making the catch.

Regarding the general conduct of a final game, or
the one upon which depends the championship :

From the less important minor games, and from the
daily practice, the captain has learned not only the
caliber of his team, but also their strongest and weakest
plays. Now comes a most difficult act for any captain,
namely, the elimination of all plays that are not suffi-
ciently well executed by his men to be classed on the
average as successful plays. Many plays that are
peculiarly successful against weaker teams are, from
their very nature, useless against well-disciplined
opponents. Such plays must be classed with the un-
successful ones, and must not be used in the critical
game. The object of eliminating all these plays is two-
fold. Certain ones of them must be given up because
they would risk the loss of the ball; and others because
they would needlessly exhaust the men. As an illus-
tration, let us take the play of short passes along the
line when running. This has always been a tempting
play. It appears scientific and skilful. It gains dis-
tance rapidly, and against a weak team gives the team
practising it an appearance of superiority not to be
denied. The reason for this is that a weak or undis-
ciplined team take it for granted that they must all
make for the man who has the ball, and there is, there-
fore, a rush of several men at the runner. He passes
the ball and they all dash after it again. This work
quickly tells upon them, and they become tired out and
discouraged, so that the runners have everything their
own way. With a thoroughly disciplined team all this

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

137

is changed. One or
two men may tackle
together, but the line
as a whole remains
steady, and when the
runner passes theball
the man receiving it
has a tackier upon
him almost at once,
so that he too is com-
pelled to pass the ball
to still another, who
may expect a similar
fate. As all this pass-
ing must be at least
on a line, and gener-
ally backward, noth-
ing is gained, but, on
the contrary, some
ground is lost. In
addition to this, there
is always the chance
— and by no means
a small one — of los-
ing the ball in this
quick passing.

Another illustra-
tion is the case of
long end throwing,

or passing the ball to a runner stationed well out on
the side of the field. This play is unquestionably
strong against rushers who bunch toward the ball, and

138 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOETS

in the smaller games it has resulted in many a touch-
down. Against veterans, however, the play fails,
because both the end and tackle are on the alert and
carefully guarding any player who is stationed at the
end. By the time the ball reaches him one or the other
of these men is so close to him that he fails to get a
fair start and is usually downed in his tracks. Then,
too, it will sometimes happen that an unusually watch-
ful and agile tackle will jump through and actually
catch the pass before it reaches the runner. Such a
catastrophe has too severe consequences to make the
risking of it otherwise than an extremely doubtful
venture. A man who thus gets the ball is in a fair
way to realize a touch-down from it, for the only
player who has a good chance at him is the back, and
the best tackier on a field must have an unequal
chance against a runner who has the entire breadth of
the field in which to dodge him. Yet again, the runner
to whom the pass is made may muff the ball. This,
although not nearly so serious as an intercepted pass,
always results in loss of ground and sometimes loss of
the ball as well.

The consideration of such plays as the two men-
tioned gives one a fair insight into the methods by
which the captain must weigh each play before enter-
ing a game of importance with rivals who in skill,
strength, and strategy are presumably the equal of his
team.

" What makes a good foot-ball player? ''is a question
asked over and over again. Many are the answers
given, but no answer is correct that does not contain

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBICA 139

the word "pluck.'' The same elements that go to|
make up excellence in any of the other field sports are |
requisite in foot-ball ; but while in certain of the others I
that peculiar type of courage called pluck is required
only in a moderate degree, in foot-ball it is abso-
lutely indispensable. Many a man has said : " Oh ! I
am too small to play foot-ball ; I could n't get on the /
team." Such a man makes a mistake. Look at the
records of our players, and see how full they are of
the names of small men. Withington, Gushing, Hard-
ing, Hodge, Beecher, and twenty others, have played
weighing under a hundred and forty ! Nor has it been
that their deeds have been remembered because per-
formed by such small men. These men made points as
well as reputations. There is a place on the foot-ball 1
field for a man, no matter what he weighs; and that\
brings to mind a remarkable pair of boys and what
they did for a Yale team at one time. One was the
son of a United States senator from Massachusetts,
and the other a younger brother of a well-known
Brooklyn lawyer. They were classmates at Yale, and
had done more or less foot-ball work during the course.
These two men weighed about a hundred and twenty-
five pounds apiece, or together a little over the weight
of the 'varsity snap-back. In that year the 'varsity
team was suffering from a combination of two disorders
— over-confidence and lack of strong practice. None
knew this better than these two little chaps, for they
understood the game thoroughly. One day, then, they
appeared at the field in their foot-ball toggery, and
without assistance from the 'varsity captain set at
once to work upon organizing the " scrub side," as the

140 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

outside or irregular players are called. One o
played center and the other quarter, and it v
many days before the scrub side began to have
and a way of its own. The overfed, under
university players began to find that they co
have things all their own way. Such trick
played upon them that they were forced to awal
their apathy. These two boys began to show th
way to make use of brains against weight and st
and the scrub side, that a week or two before ht
unable to hold the 'varsity even enough to mt
contest interesting, actually had the audacity t
against them once or twice every afternoon. Ho^
two ever got such work out of the rabble th<
to handle, no one knows to this day ; but it a
making of the 'varsity team, for it speedily de^
under this experience into one of Yale's sti
teams, and I have often heard one of that team :
since that he 'd rather play against any team
Association than against the " scrubs " led by
Jenks and " Timmy " Dawes.

This brings us to another quality: the brah
team. That team is the best which has th<
brains. Foot-ball is, even now, an undeveloped
'There is room for an almost infinite number of
"unthought-of plays. Every season brings f
many new ones. If a player wishes to devote
of his spare time to a fascinating amusement, 1
take pencil and paper and plan out combinat:
the evening, and try them the next day. He wi
find that he is bringing out not only new but s
ful plays. Some think that the captain of the '

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 141

team is the only one who has an opportunity to try
this; but if two or three on the scrub side will make
the attempt they will find that a 'varsity team is no
more proof against a new scheme than the veriest
scrub team in existence. In fact, oftentimes the 'var-
sity players are so sublime in their own consciousness
of superiority that they are the simplest men on the
field to lead into traps and defeat by a little exercise
of ingenuity. If a boy at school is n't on the first
team, he can get together a few men of the second
team and have the satisfaction of actually showing his
betters how to play.

"Play not for gain but sport," is thoroughly sound; |
but it means play honestly and hard, not listlessly and
carelessly, and make it your sport to win. Then if you
lose, put a good face on it; but go home and think
out a way to win next time. Brains will beat brute
strength every time if you give them fair play.

Endurance is another element of success. Plenty
of dash when it is necessary, but behind it there
must be the steady, even, staying qualities. For these,
good training is chiefly responsible; because, although
natural endurance does exist in some men, it is not
common, while the endurance of well-trained men is
a thing that can be relied upon with confidence.

A direct case in point was a victory of Princeton
over Yale in 1878. Upon the Yale team were some
three or four men — upper-class men — who thought that
they had done enough training in former years, and
they therefore made but a pretense of following out
the rules of stiict training. The example of these men
aflfected several of the other players to such an extent

142 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

that there was groat laxity. Up to the time of the final
contest, this team had performed well, and it was gen-
erally believed that they would have no gi*eat difficulty
in defeating Princeton.

In the first half of the game they pressed the Orange
men hard, and several tinjos all but scored. In the
dressing-room at I'^^^^rmi n there was a general im-
pression tl^ '' tie wind, which would be in Yale's
favor the^ .nd half, they must surely win. The
second halt-oegan, and it was not many minutes before
the Yale men found themselves steadily losing ground.
There was in the Princeton runners a resistless force
that kept Yale retreating nearer and nearer to her own
goal. At last, by a brilliant play, Princeton succeeded
in making a touch-down from which a goal was kicked.
During the remainder of the game, Princeton, although
making no further score, held Yale fast down inside
the twenty-five-yard line, and the Blue went back to
New Haven with a very salutary lesson on the evil of
neglecting the laws of training.

These are laws which no foot-ball player can afford
to ignore.

LAMAR'S RUN

One of the most magnificent dashes ever made on an
American foot-ball field was the run made by Lamar,
of Princeton, in the game with Yale which was played
upon the Yale field, November 21, 1885. The game
had been an unusual one in many respects. Princeton
had come to New Haven after a long wrangle about
the place of playing, and had brought a team supposed

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

143

by experts throughout the country to be sure winners.
The Yale team was a green one, and none of her par-
tizans hoped for more than a respectable showing
against the Princeton veterans. But Peters, the Yale

captain, had done wonders with his recruits, as the
game soon showed. His team opened with a rush, and
actually forced the fight for the entire first half. They
scored a goal from the field upon the astonished Princt?-
tonians, and, in spite of the valiant efforts put forth

144 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

agaiast them, seemed certain of victory. The feeling
of the Princeton team and her sympathizers can easily
be imagined. The sun was low in the horizon, nearly
forty minutes of the second half were gone, and no one
dared to hope such failing fortunes could be retrieved
in the few remaining minutes. The ball was in Yale's
hands, half way down the field, and on the northern edge.
Tor a moment Captain Peters hesitated, and consulted
with another of his players as to whether he should con-
tinue the running game and thus make scoring against
him impossible and victory certain, or send the ball by
a kick down in front of his enemy's goal and trust to a
fumble to increase his score. Perhaps not a dozen
men knew what was in his mind. A kick was surely
the more generous play in the eyes of the crowd. He
settled the ball under his foot, gave the signal, and
shot it back. The quarter sent it to Watkinson, who
drove it with a low, swinging punt across the twenty-
five-yard line and toward the farther goal post. It was
a perfect kick for Yale's purposes, difficult to catch and
about to land close to the enemy's posts. A Princeton
man attempted to catch it, but it shot off his breast
toward the southern touch-line. Lamar, who had been
slightly behind this man, was just starting up to his
assistance from that particular spot. As the ball slid
off with its force hardly diminished, he made a most
difficult short-bound catch of it on the run, and sped
away along the southern boundary. The Yale forwards
had all gone past the ball, in their expectation of
getting it, as they saw the missed catch. Lamar, there-
fore, went straight along toward the half-back and
back. Watkinson, the kicker, had hardly stirred from

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

145

his tracks, as the entire play had occupied but a few
seconds, and he was therefore too near the northern
side of the field to have even a chance to cut off the
runner. Lamar, with the true instinct of the bom

K
>>
SS

H
H
•is

runner, saw in a moment his opportunity, and ran
straight along the southern edge as if he intended to
get by there. Bull and his comrade (who then were
inexperienced tacklers) were the two men in his path-
way, and they both bunched over by the line as the

14G WALTER CAMP'8 BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

Princeton runner came flying down upon them. Just
as he was almost upon them, Lamar made a swerve to
the right, and was by them like lightning before either
could recover. By this time two or three of the Yale
forwards, Peters among them, had turned, and were
desperately speeding up the field after Lamar, who was
but a few yards in advance, having given up several
yards of his advantage to the well-executed manceuver
by which he had cleared his field of the half-back and
back. Then began the race for victory. Lamar had
nearly forty yards to go, and, while he was running
well, had had a sharp " breather" already, not only in
his run thus far, but in his superb dodging of the
backs. Peters, a strong, untiring, thoroughly trained
runner, was but a few yards behind him, and in addi-
tion to this he was the captain of a team which but a
moment before had been sure of victory. How he ran!
But Lamar — did he not too know full well what the
beat of those footsteps behind him meant f The white
five-yard lines fairly flew under his feet; past the
broad twenty-five-yard line he goes, still with three or
four yards to spare. Now he throws his head back
with that familiar motion of the sprinter who is almost
to the tape, and who will run his heart out in the last
few strides, and, almost before one can breathe, he is
over the white goal-line and panting on the ground,
with the ball under him, a touch-down made, from
which a goal was kicked, and the day saved for
Princeton. Poor Lamar! He was drowned a few
years after graduation, but no name will be better re-
membered among the foot-ball players of that day
than will his.

FOOT-BALL IN AMEKICA 147

bull's kick

The season of 1888 had opened with a veritable
foot-ball boom. The previous season had ended with a
close contest between Harvard and Yale, while Prince-
ton, although occupying third place, had had by no
means a weak team. Reports of the preliminary work
of the three great teams, while conflicting, pointed in a
general way to an increased strength at each univer-
sity. The Boston papers were lauding the work of the
Harvard team, and the New York papers returning the
compliment with tales of large scores by the Princeton
men. Advices from New Haven showed that Yale had
a far greater wealth of material from which to draw
players than either of the others, so that although the
actual strength of the team could not be learned, it
was certain that the lugubrious reports from the City
of Elms had little foundation. In this state of affairs,
the first game, which was scheduled to be between
the Crimson and the Orange and Black, was eagerly
awaited. The game was played at Princeton, and
an enormous crowd assembled to witness the match.
Both sides were confident of victory, and Princeton was
also determined to avenge the defeat of the former
season. The day was perfect, and the game a thor-
oughly scientific one. Although Harvard battled man-
fully up to the very last moment, she could not
overcome the lead which Princeton had obtained early
in the game, and was at last forced to return to Cam-
bridge defeated. The hopes of Princeton soared up
that afternoon to the highest pitch, and those who

148

WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

were well posted on the relative merits of foot-ball
players agreed with them that their prospects were
indeed of the brightest. Had it not been for news
which came over the wires that evening from New

BILL, OF YALE.

Haven, it would have been concluded that Princeton
would find an easy prey in Yale. But that news was
something startling. It seems that the Yale-Wesleyan
championship game had been played that same day.
Harvard and Princeton had each already met Wes-
leyan, but neither had scored over fifty points against
that team. The astonishment of all foot-ball men was

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 149

great, then, when the news came that Yale had made
the almost unprecedented score of 105 against the Mid-
dletown men. This, then, was the state of affairs pre-
vious to the Yale-Princeton match. Harvard was now
out of the question, owing to her defeat by Princeton,
and all interest centered in this final contest. The
day, while not very promising in its morning aspect,
turned out propitious toward noon, and fully fifteen
thousand people crowded the Polo Grounds before the
players stepped out on the field. A perfect roar of
applause greeted the entrance of the rival teams, and
as they lined out facing one another, not even the most
indiflferent could help feeling the thrill of suppressed
excitement that trembled through the vast throng.
The game began, and for twenty-five minutes first one
side gained a slight advantage, then the other, but nei-
ther had been able to score. The Yale men had a
slight advantage in position, having forced the ball
into Princeton's territory. So manfully were they held
from advancing closer to the coveted goal, that people
were beginning to think that the game might result
in a draw, neither side scoring. At this point Yale had
possession of the ball. That slight change in posi-
tion, — that massing of the forwards toward the center
and the closing up of the back, — that surely means
something! Yes, Princeton sees it too, and eagerly
her forwards press up in the line with their eyes all
centered on the back, for it is evident he is to tiy a
drop-kick for goal. This bright-faced, boyish-looking
fellow, with a rather jaunty air, is Bull, Yale's famous
drop-kicker. He seems calm and quiet enough as he
gives a look of direction to the quarter, and with a

160 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE 8P0BTS

smile steps up to the spot where he wishes the ball
thrown. There is a moment of expectancy, and then
the whole forward line seems torn asunder, and through
the gap comes a mass of Princeton rushers with a furi-
ous dash; but just ahead of them flies the ball, from the
quarter, straight and sure into Bull's outstretched
hands. It hardly seems to touch them, so quickly
does he turn the ball and dro^. it before him, as with
a swing of his body he brings himself into kicking
attitude, and cat<5hing the ball with his toe, as it rises
from the gi'ound, shoots it like a bolt just over the
heads of the Princeton forwards, and — down he goes
in the rush! The ball, however, sails smoothly on,
high in the air, just missing by a few feet the wished-
for goal.

A sigh of relief escapes from the troubled breasts
of Princeton sympathizers as they realize that for a
time, at least, the danger is past. The Orange and
Black bring the ball out for a kick-out, and work des-
perately to force it up the field, having had too vivid
a realization of danger to desire a repetition. Again,
however, they are driven steadily back until the Yale
captain thinks he is near enough to give Bull a second
opportunity, and at a signal the formation for a kick
is again made. Bull, a little less smiling, a trifle less
jaunty in his air, again takes his position. Again
Princeton opens up the line and drives her for-
wards down upon him, but again that deadly drop
sails over their heads ; this time a foot nearer the black
cross-bar. Another kick-out by Princeton follows, and
another desperate attempt to force the Blue back to
the center of the field; but with a maddening persis-

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA 151

tency, and with a steady plunging not to be checked,
the gray and blue line fights its way, yard by yard,
down upon the Princeton territory. Captain Corbin
glances once more at the goal, sees that his line is
near enough, and again gives the signal. Bull steps
up for the third time, and his smile has flown. He
realizes that twice have his ten men carried the ball
for him up to the very door of victory, only to see him
close that door in their faces. His lips are firmly set
as his resolve shows itself in every line of his well-knit
frame. He settles himself firmly on his feet and gives
the signal for the ball to come. For the third time the
little quarter hurls it from under the very feet of the
plunging mass, and this time Bull sends it true as
a bullet straight over the cross-bar between the posts.
With a yell of delight the Yale men rush madly over
the ropes and seize the successful kicker. In the
second half Bull has but one opportunity; but he takes
advantage of that one to score another goal, and when
the game is over is borne off in triumph by the rejoic-
ing Yalensians, the hero of the day.

If there was anything that might make a momentary
ripple upon the steady, resistless stream of New York
life, it should certainly be one of those foot-ball games.
While there are plenty of base-ball enthusiasts, they
possess their souls and their enthusiasm in patience
before they reach, and after they leave, the grounds.
But the collegian has no sense of repression, and his
enthusiasm annually stin-ed up the sober, sedate dignity
of Fifth Avenue from the Brunswick to the Park. For
some years the wiseacres said: "No one will come
to a game on Thanksgiving Day. New-Yorkers will

152 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

never give up their annual dinner for anything under
the sun.'' At the last game played on that day
forty thousand people postponed their annual dinner
to see the Yale-Princeton match. Perhaps nothing will
better illustrate the pitch to which the interest had
attained than to take the ride to the grounds, first with
the spectators, then with the team. Coaches have been
bringing as high as a hundred and twenty-five dollars
apiece for the day, and even at that price are engaged
weeks before the contest. Stages are resorted to. The
old 'bus appears in rejuvenated habiliments, bedecked
with great streamers of partizan colors, and freighted
with the eager sympathizers of the Orange or the Blue.
Long before noon, tally-hos draw up before the up-town
hotels, and are soon bearing jolly parties out to the
grounds, in order to make sure of a place close to the
ropes. The corridors of the Fifth Avenue, Hoffman,
and Windsor have for twelve hours been crowded by
college boys eagerly discussing the prospects of the
rival teams. Any word from the fortunate ones who
are permitted to \nsit the teams is seized and passed
from mouth to mouth as eagerly as if upon the out-
come of the match hung the fate of nations. The
condition of Jones's ankle is fraught with the utmost
interest, and all the boys heave sighs of relief at heai--
ing that he will be able to play.

Having talked over the state of affairs all the even-
ing, and until noon of the momentous day, each boy is
thoroughly primed to tell his sister (and particularly
his chum's sister) all about every individual member of
his own team, as well as to throw in the latest gossip
concerning the opponents. He is frequently inter-

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBICA

153

154 WALTEB camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE 8P0BTS

rupted in this conversation, held on the top of the
coach, by the necessity of stopping to cheer some
house where his colors are displayed in the windows,
or to salute some passing tally-ho from which the
similarly colored ribbons dangle and banners wave.

Arrived on the grounds, the coaches are drawn up in
line, and while anxiously awaiting the advent of the
two teams, the appearance of each Princeton or Tale
flag becomes an excuse for another three times three.
And how smartly the boys execute their cheers ! The
Yale cry is sharper and more aggressive, but the
Princeton boys get more force and volume into theirs.
The fair faces of the girls are as flushed with excite-
ment as are those of the men, and their hearts no
less in the cheering.

Having followed the spectators out, and seen them
safely and advantageously placed, let us ride back and
return with one of the teams. We find the men (who
have been confined all the morning between four walls
in order to prevent their talking over the chances, and
thus becoming anxious and excited) just finishing their
luncheon. They eat but little, as, in spite of their
assumed coolness, there is no player who is not more
or less nervous over the result. Hurriedly leaving the
table, they go to their rooms and put on their uniforms.
One after another they assemble in the captain's room,
and, if one might judge from the appearance of their
canvas jackets and begrimed trousers, they are not a
set of men to fear a few tumbles. Finally, they all
have appeared, the last stragglers still engaged in
lacing up their jackets. The captain then says a few
words of caution or encouragement to them, as he

FOOT-BALL IN AMERICA

155

156 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SP0BT8

thinks best He is evidently in dead earnest, and so
are they, for you might hear a pin drop as he talks in
a low voice of the necessity of each man's rendering a
good account of himself. Thoughtfully they file out of
the room, troop down the stairs, and out through the
side entrance, where the coach is waiting for them.
Then the drive to the grounds, — very different from
the noisy, boisterous one we have just taken with the
admirers of these same men. Hardly a word is spoken
after the first few moments, and one fairly feels the
atmosphere of determination settling down upon them
as they bowl along through the Park. Every man has
his own thoughts, and keeps them to himself; for they
have long ago discussed their rivals, and each man has
mentally made a comparison between himself and the
man he is to face, until there is little left to say. Now
they leave the Park and rumble up to the big north gate
of the Polo Grounds. As they crawl leisurely through
the press of carriages, everything makes way for them,
and the people in line for tickets stare at the coach for a
glimpse of the players. They are soon in, and, jumping
out at the dressing-rooms, run in and throw off outside
coats, still keeping on the heavy sweaters. Now comes
a slight uneasy delay, as it is not yet quite time to go
out on the field lest their rivals keep them waiting
there too long in the chill air. This is in truth the
mauvais quart d^heure of the foot-ball player, for the
men's nerves are strung to a high pitch. Perhaps some
one begins to discuss a play or the signals, and in a few
minutes the players are in a fair way to become
thoroughly mixed, when the captain utters a brief but
expressive, " Shut up there, will you f ^ and growls out

FOOT-BALL IN AMEEICA 157

something about all knowing the signals well enough if
they 'U quit discussing them. A short silence follows,
and then they receive the word to come out. As they
approach the great black mass of people and carriages
surrounding the gi'ound, they feel the pleasant stimulus
of the crisp fresh air, and their hearts begin to swell
within them as they really scent the battle. Just as
they break through the crowd into the open field, a
tremendous cheer goes up from the throats of their
friends, and the eager desire seizes them to dash in and
perform some unusual deed of skill and strength.

The Polo Grounds have fallen before the advance of
city streets. That old inclosure, the scene of some
most exciting college contests, will never again resound
with the mad cheer of enthusiastic spectators; but
there will be handed down to boys coming after, the
memory and story of some grand old games, and there
will always be a touch in common among the old
players who saw service on those grounds. Of late
years the game has been transferred to New Haven
and Princeton alternately, miicli to the regi'et of the
New York enthusiasts.

THE COSTUME AND TRAINING

The old-fashioned woolen jersey has given place, in
great measure, to the less comfortable but more ser-
viceable canvas jacket. This change was first made
by a team of Trinity College, of Hartford. There had
been a few rumors afloat to the effect that there was a
new foot-ball garment, made of canvas, which rendered
it almost impossible to catch or hold the wearer. No
one at the other colleges had paid nmch attention to

153

WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

this report, and it was not until the Trinity team
stepped out of their dressing-rooms at Hamilton Park,
that the Yale men first saw the new canvas jackets.
Strange enough they appeared in those early days, too,

as the Trinity eleven marched
out on the field in their white
jackets laced up in front. It
gave them quite a military air,
for the jackets were cut in the
bobtail fashion of the cadets'.
The men in blue looked con-
temptuously down on the in-
novation upon the regulation
jersey, and it was not until they
had played for nearly half an
hour, and had had many Trinity
players slip through their fin-
gers, that they were ready to ad-

-^^\ ii /^^ ^ ™^* ^^^^ there was some virtue
^-^ kfl > ^^ in the jacket. The Trinity men,

bound to give the new costume
a fair trial, had brought some
grease out with them, and each
jacket had been thoroughly besmeared. They were
therefore as difficult to grasp as eels, and it was not
until the Yale men had counteracted this by grasp-
ing great handfuls of sand that they were able to do
anything like successful tackling. This, then, wa« the
beginning of the canvas jacket, and although the
greasing process was not continued (in fact, it was
stopped by the insertion of a rule forbidding it), the
jacket itself was a true improvement, and it was not

THE OLD WOOLKN COSTUME.

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBIOA 159

long before all the teams were wearing them. The
superiority of the canvas jacket over the jersey lies in
the fact that it gives much less hold for the fingers of
the tackier, and also that it does not keep stretching
until it offers an easy grasp, as does the jersey.

The next article of the foot-baller's costume which \
demanded particular attention was the shoe. Probably,
in spite of all the trials and the great exercise of in-
ventive faculty bestowed upon the sole of a foot-ball
man's shoe, there is to-day no better device for all
fields and all weathers than the straight cross-leather
strips which were used in the first year of the sport.
They are shown in diagram I of the accompanying cut.
One of the earliest plans was to lay out these strips in
various different lines across the sole, in order to pre-
sent an edge no matter in what direction the foot was
turned. This gave rise to as many styles as there were
men on a team. The cuts show a few of these (dia-
grams II, m, IV, V).

Rubber soles were also tried, but they proved heavy,
and when the ground was wet they did not catch as
well as the leather strips. We have not yet seen a trial
made of the felt soles which are now used in tennis,
but these probably would not answer for kicking, as
they would not be sufficiently stiff.

160 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

The trousers also have quite a history. At first,
several of the teams wore woven knickerbockers made
of the same material as the jersey. These fitted them
tight to the skin, and although they offered very little
obstruction to the freedom of a man's gait, they neither
were things of beauty nor did they prove much of a
joy to the wearers; for when a hole was once started, it
spread most am87.ingly. Another serious feature was,
that when a p /vras played on frozen ground every
tumble and slide left its mark not only on the trousers,
but also on the player's skin beneath, as these trunks
offered almost no protection. The next remove from
these "tights," as they were expressively called, was to
flannel knickerbockers. These prevailed for a season,
but they were not stout enough for the rough work of
the game, and many a youth has needlessly enlisted
the sympathy of the tender hearts in the audience,
when his comrades gathered about him and bore him
from the field, only, however, to reappear again — such
a plucky young man! — in a few moments. Some of
the more knowing ones noticed that the trousers worn
by the young man on his second appearance were not
the same as those in which he began the game. Cor-
duroy was tried with no better results than flannel.
The most approved cloth now in use among the players
is a sort of heavy fustian, and even these are thickly
padded at the knees and along the sides of the thighs.

The caps ran through a series of changes from
a little skull-cap to the long-tasseled affair called a
toboggan toque. The only really serviceable innova-
tion was a cap with a broad visor, to be worn by the
backs and half-backs when facing the sun. The stock-

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBIGA 161

ings are thicker than they used to be, but otherwise
there has been no change. The foot-ball player of
to-day puts on a suit of flannels underneath his uni-
form, and if his canvas jacket is"a little loose or the
day cold, he wears a jersey next the jacket on the
inside.

His shoes are of stout leather with straight strips
across the soles; and, if " "* become a little

stretched from constant use, au ^ ^air of socks

underneath the woolen ones gives his feet a more com-
fortable feeling.

He is better dressed to avoid bruises than the old-
time player, but the canvas jacket is hard to play in,
and such men as the quarter-back, who have little
opportunity to make runs, but much stooping to do,
still cling to the jersey. The back also can dispense
with the canvas jacket if he finds it very irksome, but
as a rule every one but the quarter is better dressed
for service if in canvas rather than a jersey.

To come to the more particular points of the diet
and exercise suitable for a foot-ball player. Long ex-
perience has shown that men who are training for this
sport must not be brought down too fine. They should
be undertrained rather than overtrained. The reason
for this is that an overtrained man becomes too deli-
cate for the rough, hard work, and perceptibly loses his
vigor after a few sharp struggles. The season of the
year is favorable to good work, and it is not diflScult
to keep men in shape. They should be given a hearty
breakfast of the regulation steaks, chops, stale bread;
nor will a cup of coffee hurt a man who has always
been in the habit of having it. Fruit also can be had

162 WALTER CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

in the early part of the season, and it is an excellent
thing to begin the breakfast. About ten or eleven
o^clock the men should practise for a half-hour or so.
The rushers should be made to pass the ball, fall on it
when it is rolling along the ground, and catch short

A TACKLE.

high kicks. They should also be put through some of
their plays by signal. The half-backs and back should
practise punting and drop-kicking, not failing to do
some place-kicking as well. The quarter-back should
pass the ball for them, and also do some passing on his
own account in order to increase the rapidity of his
throwing as well as the distance to which he can pass
the ball. The half-backs and back should be made to
take all the fly-catching they have time for, and it is
best to have some one running toward them while they
are performing the catch, that they may become accus-
tomed to it. A very light lunch should be served at
about one o'clock. It should consist of cold meats,

FOOT-BALL IN AMEBIOA 163

toasty warm potatoes, eggs if agreeable; in fact, no
great restriction should be placed upon the appetite
of the men at any of the meals, except where cer-
tain things manifestly disagree with certain individ-
uals. Nothing very hearty should be given them
at noon, however. At half-past two — or, better, at
three — they should start for the grounds, and then
play against a scrub team for an hour and a half.
When they have had their baths, and been well rubbed
down, it is about five o'clock, and in an hour from that
time they will eat more dinner than any other set of
men in training. No alcoholic beverages are permis-
sible except for particular cases — as for a man who is
getting too "fine^ a little ale is not out of the way and
may give him a better appetite and better night's rest.
Plenty of sleep is indispensable. One other feature
should be mentioned, which is, that as the rule for
foot-ball games is " play, rain or shine,'' a team must
practise in bad weather. Notwithstanding the fact
that one would naturally predict colds for the men
from practice in the rain, experience teaches quite the
opposite. A cold is almost unheard of, and when it
does occur is always traceable directly to some foolish
exposure after the playing is over; as, for instance,
remaining in the wet clothes. This must on no account
be allowed. If the men are put into their baths, and
dressed immediately after in warm, dry clothes, they
will never take cold.

The above points are the vital ones in foot-ball train-
ing, and give a general view of the course to be pur-
sued. The smaller technicalities every captain must
discover for himself.

BASE-BALL— FOR THE SPECTATOR

THE next generation of Americans will be as thor-
oughly educated in the technicalities of base-ball
as our English cousins are in the intricacies of cricket
Many a man to-day has felt a little defrauded by the
increasing space his morning paper gives to the game,
and has been inclined to look with disapproval upon
the devotion of his boy at school to something apart
from his studies. As the present generation of boys
become men, however, there will be a softer spot in
their hearts for a pastime whose ways they know and
whose fascinations they remember. Putting aside for
a moment its professional questions, base-ball is for
every boy a good, wholesome sport. It brings him out
of the close confinement of the school-room. It takes
the stoop from his shoulders, and puts hard, honest
muscle all over his frame. It rests his eyes, strengthens
his lungs, and teaches him self-reliance and cour-
age. Every mother ought to rejoice when her boy
says he is on his school or college nine. And she
would if she knew what he means when he says he
is "in training.'' It means that he is following, with
the closest observation, the laws of health. He is free
from the taint of dissipation, and is making of himself
a clean, strong young man. This training has been
made a study, and the results have been handed down

BASE-BALL — FOB THE SPECTATOB 165

through college and school, until every boy now enjoys
the advantages. The enforcement, too, of these laws
of training is more strict than that of any rules of
teacher or faculty ; for, instead of surveillance, the boy
is bound by his honor to his captain and his fellows.

The history of the game is an interesting record
of progress and development. Away back in the fif-
ties we find it assuming its first stage as a well-defined
sport. Previous to that time there were certain games
played with bat and ball, but there were not enough
points of similarity to warrant one in attempting to
prove or disprove conclusively where the game of
base-ball originated. In this early stage the game was
chiefly confined to local nines, with here and there
a sporadic outbreak of it at the colleges. There were
occasional attempts at organization; but while these
had existed here and there, an association or league
of men making base-ball a profession was unthought
of. Men who played ball for a financial consideration
had other means of livelihood, and there were no play-
ers whose efforts could accumulate a fund sufficient to
last through the winter. As the game gi'ew in popu-
lar favor it became possible for men to turn it into
a money-making venture, and this they did not hesi-
tate to do. The sport had not at that time acquired
sufficient strength to withstand the evils dragged into
it by those whose sympathies were only with the gam-
bling and pool-selling classes, so that in the sixties the
evil of betting had crept into the sport so much as
seriously to compromise its prospects and give it a bad
odor among respectable communities. Sold games
were a common thing, and many of the journals of

166 WALTEE GAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

that day predicted its speedy downfall. As a notable
effort to reinstate the game in popular favor, and
scotch the betting and selling evil, stands out most
prominently the convention held in Philadelphia in
December, 1867. An idea of the thoroughness of the
effort can be gained from the fact that five hundred
clubs were represented.

The leading ball clubs during the next year or two
were, in the East, the Atlantics of Brooklyn, Athletics
of Philadelphia, Unions of Morrisania, and the Mu-
tuals ; while the Red Stockings of Cincinnati bore the
palm in the West. This latter club made a most
successful trip east in 1869, winning all of the twenty-
one games played. Such was the enthusiasm pro-
duced by these victories that on the return of the club
it was met by a perfect ovation, tendered a banquet,
and presented with a champion bat. This rather re-
markable testimonial was twenty-seven feet long and
nine inches in diameter. The same nine made another
Eastern trip the following season, and met with almost
equal success, suffering but one defeat, and that by
the Atlantics on the Capitoline grounds. A crowd of
ten thousand people assembled to witness this match,
and so lost their heads in the excitement as to give the
Western men a very unfair reception. The game was
not decided at the end of the ninth inning, each club
having five runs. The tenth inning was played in a
pause of breathless excitement, neither club scoring;
but in the eleventh inning, in a perfect bedlam of
noise, the Atlantics succeeded in making three runs,
while the Red Stockings scored but two.

In 1874 American base-ball men made their first for-

BASE-BALL — FOB THE SPECTATOB

167

eign trip. The ex-champion Athletics and the cham-
pion Bostons crossed the water and played several
exhibition games. Their first game was played at
Lord's, on Bank Holiday, August 3.

Fifteen years later, in 1889, two nines of representa-
tive American ball-players, after carrying the sport

<i^

THE CATCH KR.

through almost every civilized quarter of the globe,
completed their tour by a game at Lord's.

The comments of the English papers upon the sport
at that time are very amusing. Speaking of the prac-
tice before the game, they say: "The larking indulged
in by the Americans for ten minutes before the match
showed great precision, but after the game commenced
returns were not so accurate." Comparing the game
with cricket, they admit that the fielding is far better,
but ascribe it to the difference in the ball used. By
this time the American game had also made a fair

168 WALTER CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

stand in Canada, the Maple Leaf Club of Guelph, On-
tario, being the most prominent in that region.

In 1876 the National League was formed of eight
clubs, containing the very pick and flower of the ball-
playing fraternity. This selection was so small when
compared with the large number of people anxious to
be spectators of ball games that in 1881 the American
Association was organized. Until time had demon-
strated that there was plenty of room for both, there
was bitter rivalry between the two. This was not
long-lived, and what is known as the National Agree-
ment then united the two in respectful and harmonious
tolerance. Their united power became quite sufficient
to govern, with their black-lists, reservations, and con-
tracts, the entire professional ball-playing community.
Their rule provoked much hard feeling and occasion-
ally open rebellion, but not a revolt sufficient to over-
throw their authority.

During the twenty years from 1870 to 1890 the Bos-
ton Ball Club won more than a third of the annual
championships, bearing off the honors in seven years.
The Chicago Club stands next, with five championships
to its credit. The only other club to win more than
once was the Providence nine, which was successful
twice. A study of the records of the League and the
Association shows that the contest was closer in the
latter — that there was not so great a difference
between the records of the first and last clubs.

Another feature of the records is of interest, as
showing the tendency of men to drift in and out of
this rather nomadic profession. There were but seven
men in the books of 1888 who had played through

BASE-BALL — FOR THE SPECTATOR

160

* OCT-CDBVE "— THE
BEOINlOlfO.

the twelve years upon one or the other of the League
nines. These seven men stood, however, with but one
exception, high in the profession, and exhibited the
same superiority that tenacity
of purpose and experience pro-
duce in any calling.

The history of college base-
ball follows the line of the pro-
fessional game very closely.
At times the college men have
been rather more conservative,
and have clung to certain rules
for a season or two after their
abandonment by the profes-
sionals. In the end, however,
in nearly every instance, they have realized the ad-
vantage of the change, and followed the lead set them.
In the early days of the sport the collegians c oped

successfully with the majority
of the semi-professionals; but
even then, when they were
pitted against the strongest,
the college nines met with de-
feat. The first game of note
between a college nine and pro-
fessionals was in the spring
of 1868, between Yale and the
Unions of Morrisania. The
Unions were at that time the
champions of the country. The
game was intensely exciting. At the end of the fifth
inning Yale led 8 to 4, but by the end of the ninth

AJI "OUT<;CBVE"— THE END.

170 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

inning the Unions had tied the score, and eventually
won the game, 16 to 14. Frequently the score-sheets
of college nines show excellent fielding; but when
these same men are brought to face the sharp, hard
hitting of the professional batsmen, their errors begin
to multiply, and, in an inverse ratio, their hits di-
minish. The increase of errors is due to the difficulty
they find in handling the fast drives of the trained
batsmen, and also to the nervousness produced by the
knowledge that they must play a quicker game. A
professional gets away to first base far more rapidly
than a college player, and the first sensation of a
college in-field on meeting a professional nine is one
of hurry. A short-stop or third baseman finds that
he has no time to "juggle'' the ball and then throw
the man out, as he often can do with college runners.
The ordinary college pitcher is no match for League
batters, and they find an easy prey in him. On the
other hand, the skill of the professional pitcher readily
balks the attempts of the college batsmen to find the
ball, and only the best men handle the stick with any
effect. The rest of the nine become nervous over
their failure to judge the delivery, and before the end
of the game apparently dread to come to the plate
for their turn.

Perhaps the host of people who understand the
game of base-ball thoroughly will forgive a few words
of explanation for the sake of those who have never
witnessed a match. It may not be uninteresting to try
to realize how the game appears for the first time to
an outsider. Any comparatively level piece of ground
over a hundred yards square will serve for a base-ball

BASE-BALL — FOB THE SPEOTATOB

171

PITCHINO A " DBOP " BALL.

field. Upon this field is laid out a diamond whose sides
measure thirty yards, and whose nearest corner is dis-
tant about ninety feet from one end of the field. This
corner is marked by a white
marble plate a foot square, sunk
level with the ground, and called
the home base. At the other
three corners are canvas bags
fifteen inches square, and called,
beginning at the right as one
looks into the field from the
home plate, the first, second, and
third base^ respectively. The
lines from home to first and
home to third, indefinitely pro-
longed, are called the foul lines. The game is played
by two sides of nine men each, one of these sides
taking its turn at the bat while the other side is in
the field endeavoring, as provided by certain rules,
to retire or put out the side at bat. Each side has
nine turns at the bat. The arrangement of the
men in the field, with the exception
of pitcher and catcher, is in the form
of two arcs facing the home plate,
whose radii are, roughly speaking,
thirty and sixty yards. Fonning the
arc with the lesser radius are four
men f*all(»d the in-fieldors, and named
the first, second, and third basemen,
and the short-stop. The latter player stands mid-
way between the second and third basemen. The
other arc is composed of the out-fielders, and they

8TOPPINO A OROLia>ER.

172 WALTER CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE 8POBTS

are named right, center, and left fielders. Inside
the diamond, and distant in a straight line in front
of the home plate some fifty-five feet, is the pitcher's
position, or box, as it is called. This is a plate upon
which the pitcher is obliged to have his foot when
performing the duty which devolves upon him of
delivering the ball to the batsman. The catcher's
position is not thus defined, but according as neces-
sity requires he stands either close behind the bats-
man, or, when no runner is on the bases, and the
batsman has not reached his last strike, some seventy
feet back of the plate. When standing thus he simply
performs the duty of returning the ball to the pitcher,
as it is unnecessary for him to catch it under these
circumstances. The players of the side at the bat take
their turn in regular rotation, and continue until three
of them have been put out by the opponents. This
retires the side to the field, and the others come in to
the bat. The batsman has a certain space marked off,
in which he must stand when striking at the ball.
The batsman becomes a base-runner immediately when
he has made a " fair hit ^ (that is, knocked the ball so
that it will fall in front of the foul lines) ; or when he
has had " three strikes ^ (that is, three fair opportuni-
ties of hitting the ball) ; or, finally, when the pitcher
has delivered "four balls,'' none of which have been
struck at by the batsman or have passed over the plate
at the proper height. In this latter case he is entitled
to occupy first base without being put out; in the
other cases he is the legitimate prey of the opponents,
and his only havens of refuge are the bases, which he
must take in regular order, first, second, third, and

BASE-BALL — FOR THE SPECTATOR 173

home. When he completes this ch^cuit, and crosses the
plate without being put out, he scores a run ; and the
number of runs thus scored in nine innings decides
the match.

A batsman is put out if he hits the ball and the ball
be caught by an opponent before touching the ground,
or if he make three foul bunts. A base-runner may be
put out in any one of the following ways: if, having
made a fair hit, the ball be caught by an opponent be-
fore touching the ground, or, having touched the groimd,
be held by a fielder any part of whose person is touch-
ing the first base before the runner reaches that base ;
if, after three strikes, the ball be caught before it touches
the ground, or, having touched the ground, be held at
first base as above described; and, finally^ if he be
touched by the ball- in the hands of a fielder at any time
during his circuit of the bases when he is not touching
the base to which he is legally entitled. To provide for
the satisfactory conduct of the game, an umpire is
agreed upon by the contesting nines, and it is his duty
to see that all the provisions of the rules are observed.
He is also the judge of good and .bad balls, put outs,
and runs. Any other point liable to become a point of
dispute comes under his jurisdiction. Sometimes two
umpires act at the same time, one at the plate and the
other on the bases.

Such, in general, are the laws by which the modem
game of base-baU is governed. These laws or rules are
the growth of many years, and it is to them and to
their annual revision and improvement that the game
owes in a large measure its success. There are many
technical terms, and a knowledge of these is necessary

174 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

BUNHINO TO FIR8T BASE.

to a perfect understanding of the game. Every ball
that the pitcher delivers to the batsman, and which he
does not hit with his bat, is called by the umpire either

"a strike'' or"abalL'' If
the batsman attempts to
hit it and misses it, it is a
strike, whether it passed
over the plate at the
proper height or not. If
the batsman makes no
attempt to hit it, and it
passes over the plate at
a height not greater than
his shoulder nor below
his knee, the umpire calls
it a strike. If it fails to
meet these requirements and the batsman makes no
attempt to hit it, the umpire calls it a ball.

As above described, four of these called balls make
the batsman a base-runner and entitle him to his base;
and at the third strike, whether called or attempted,
he becomes a base-runner and must reach first or be
put out. A base-runner cannot run out of the direct
line in order to avoid a player with the ball, nor can he
interfere with any of his opponents legitimately at-
tempting to handle the ball. It often happens in a
game that a base-runner is obliged to vacate his base
by the occupancy of that base by a following runner.
This is called being "forced," and when it happens
that runner may be put out by being touched with
the ball, or by its being held by a fielder on the base
to which this succeeding runner forces him, before he

BASE-BALL — FOB THE 8PECTAT0B 175

can reach it. There is only one base which a runner
may overrun without liability of being touched out,
and that is first base. ^^ A balk " is any motion made
by the pitcher toward delivering the ball to the bats-
man without so delivering it, and every base-runner is
entitled to the next base on such oflfense. Within the
province of the umpire comes the duty of deciding
regarding the weather and darkness. In the case of

SLIDING TO BABE.

the former, the rule is laid down for him that the rain
is suflSciently severe to stop the game when the spec-
tators seek shelter. If the rain then continues for a
half-hour, he "calls'' the game; and if five complete
innings or over have been played, it stands as a game,
otherwise not. The same result holds in the case of
darkness.

In the scoring of the game there are also technical
terms, and a slight knowledge of these enables one to
glean from the tabulated forms in the newspapers a
fairly good idea of what each man has accomplished.
The columns are headed by the initials of these tech-
nical terms. The first column is headed R., and indi-
cates the number of runs he has made. The column
headed B. H. or 1 B. indicates the character of his bat-

176 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

ting, and the letters stand for the term "base hits,^ or
1st base hits. A batsman makes a base hit when he
strikes a fair ball in such a direction that it is im-
possible for his opponents either to catch it on the
fly or to field it to first base before he crosses that
base. Following this column is sometimes one headed
S. B., which means "stolen bases.'' These are bases
gained by good running or by strategy, without the as-
sistance of a hit. In addition to these columns, which
indicate what each man of the side has accomplished
while at the bat, are three columns devoted to the rec-
ord of the fielding. These are headed P. O., A., and E.
The first stands for "put outs," and indicates how many
of the opponents he has individually retired. It will be
noticed that the first baseman and the cateher usually
succeed in taking the lion's share of this column. The
next letter stands for "assists," and any player who
handles a ball during a play which might or does
eventually result in the putting out of an opponent
receives for every such assistance a credit of one in
this colunm. The last column indicates the number
of missed opportunities, or " errors." A player is ac-
credited with an error for every chance he has failed
to accept in a manner to result directly or indirectly
in the putting out of an opponent. It will be seen,
then, that the sum of these three columns shows just
how many opportunities each fielder has had ; and the
relative ratio of the sum of the put outs and assists to
the errors indicates his fielding record.

Other special phrases and terms are almost self-
explanatory. An "earned run" is one that is made
without the assistance of fielding errors — that is, in

BASE-BALL — FOR THE SPECTATOR 177

spite of the most perfect playing of the opponents.
From the nature of things, a ball so knocked that
it cannot be caught or fielded to the plate before the
man can make the entire circuit of the bases yields an
earned, or, as it is in such instances more generally
called, a "home run.'' A "passed balP is a pitched
ball which, by an error^-if the catcher irallow^ to go
behind him so that a runner is advanced a base. A
"wild pitch'' is a ball delivered by the pitcher so wide
of the mark that the catcher cannot recover it before
the runner has advanced a base. A "sacrifice hit"
is a ball so batted as to advance a base-runner while
it gives an opportunity of putting out the man bat-
ting it.

There are certain strategic plays which go to make
up the finer points of the game. One of the most com-
mon of these is throwing first to one base, then quickly
to another, in order to put out more than one man.
For instance, when there is a runner on first base
and a ball is batted near second, if the second base-
man merely threw the ball to first he would put
out the man who hit it, but the man on first would
hold his base or go to second when the ball was
thrown. Whereas, if the second baseman seizes the
ball and touches his bag, the man on first is forced out
at second, and by quick work the second baseman can
throw the ball to first before the runner who struck
the ball can reach that point. In this way he makes
what is called a double play, putting out both men.
Triple plays are also possible, although seldom made.
Another point which shows the brains of the game is
in attempting to put out the man who is nearest home

178

WALTER gamp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

in his circuit of the bases. Thus, whenever there is
an opportunity of putting out either a runner who is
coming from third or one who is going to first, the pref-
erence is given to the former, un- =
O less the chances of putting him out '

are unusually slender. Still another
fine point is the race of man against
the ball, as shown in the case of a
man on third base when a long fly
is batted into the out-field. Accord-
ing to the rule, the runner must'
touch the base after the fly is caught
before he can run, but the distance
from the fielder making the catch
to the home plate is so great that
there is a very fair chance of his
getting home before the ball. He
therefore stands with his foot touching the bag, and
leaning forward for a start. Just as the ball settles
into the fielder's hands off he goes. The fielder, too,
is prepared for this, and recovering himself almost
instantly, he drives the ball in on its long journey
toward the plate, often reaching it just as the run-
ner crosses it, but too late for the catcher to touch him.
Of all the positions on the field, the two that com-
mand the most attention are those of pitcher and
catcher, or battery, as they are called. Upon them
are pinned the hopes of every other man. If the
pitcher succeeds in deceiving the opposing batsmen
and the catcher gives him good support, all will be
well; but if the curves and strategies of the pitcher
are readily solved, or if the catcher fails to hold him

FIBLDEB GATGHINO
▲ FLT.

BASE-BALL — FOB THE SPECTATOB 179

well, the field will have some sorry work to do before
the nine innings are finished. Successful batteries
are in great demand, and receive the highest salaries
among professional ball-players. In valuing a battery
the firat points of consideration are their eflfectiveness
and endurance, and then their ability to get on well
with the rest of the nine.

A pitcher to-day is not a strong pitcher unless he
has good command of the curves, a fair amount of
speed, and ordinary accuracy. These are only the
verage recommendations. The crack men have
hese, combined with excellent judgment and unusual
endurance. A pitcher who can pitch more than two
games a week successfully through a season can boast
of his record. Nor is a catcher much better oflf. His
hands are liable to slight injuries which may keep him
oflf a day or two, or, if he persists in playing, result so
badly as to incapacitate him for weeks. The constant
strain when under the bat is too great for him to
endure more than two or three games a week. The
rest of the men can, if necessary, play their four or
five games a week without serious inconvenience, but
the battery requires constant care and frequent relief.

Probably no point in the game has been more
developed in the last twenty years than the pitching.
The old method was to deliver the ball by a perfectly
straight swing, the aim passing close to the side of the
body, and the ball being sent from a point below the
pitcher^s hip. This style of delivery would meet with
such a reception from the trained batsmen of to-day
that an inning would last longer than the ordinary
game. The first step from this old-time true pitching

180 WALTEE camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

was to the use of the wrist in the delivery, making
what was known as an underhand throw. At just
about the same time the discovery was made that a
ball could be so pitched or thrown as to cause it to
curve slightly from the straight line. Many were the
skeptics regarding the possibility of such a thing. For
a long time men versed in physical science and phe-
nomena pooh-poohed at this, saying that it was impos-
sible, and that it was simply an optical delusion. But
the ball did curve, and the first pitchers to acquire the
art proved problems to the best of batsmen. The "out-
curve ^ was the one first discovered, as it is easiest to
eflfect. This is a delivery by a right-handed pitcher
which causes the ball to curve away from a right-
handed batsman. Slowly after this came the "in-
curve,'' or reverse of this. This curve is so slight
as to be but little more effective than a straight ball.
The "rise" and "drop," which had probably existed
for some time previous, then took on definite names
and became combined with the other curves. The
most logical explanation of the curvature of a ball
depends upon the supposition of the compression of
the air just in front of the ball and a corresponding
rarefaction immediately behind it, so that the ball
by its friction is deflected from its true course. When
the curves were mastered, the tendency of the pitchers
was to bring the hand up above the hip in order to
give more of a twist to the ball, and thereby assist the
curve. The diflBculty experienced by umpires in con-
trolling this tendency led to the adoption of a rule
allowing the pitcher to deliver the ball from any point
below the shoulder. This rule prevailed for a time.

BASE-BALL — FOB THE SPECTATOB

181

;.*^'"

but no sooner were the pitchers allowed this leeway
than they began to make the umpire^s task equally
difficult again by getting their delivery just a trifle
higher than the law allowed. In
order to put an end to the eternal
field discussions upon this point,
a rule was passed permitting the
pitcher to throw the ball in any
way he saw fit, and this rule has
met with comparatively good suc-
cess. The pitcher, who had for-
merly been placed forty-five feet
from the batsman, was relegated
to a fifty-foot distance. Even then,
by taking advantage of a step or
two behind his line, he acquired
so much speed that it became
necessary to fix his position more
definitely, and to-day he is even
bound to the extent of the exact
position of his foot when delivering the ball. In spite
of all these restrictions, such is the growing skill of
pitchers that the problem is constantly under dis-
cussion how to legislate in favor of the batsman.

The rest of the fielding has kept some measure of
progress with the pitching, the catcher's position ex-
hibiting the highest development. This development
is fortunately accompanied by numerous safeguards
against the shocks of the increased speed of the ball.
The first catchers who came up under the bat were
wont to wear a small piece of rubber in the mouth as a
protection to the teeth from foul tips. It was not long

/ --'

cS>

FIB8T BASEMAN CATCHING
A HIGH BALL.

182 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

before an inventive genius designed a wire mask
which buckled about the head, and, while allowing per-
fect freedom and sight, rendered the catcher safe from
any chance ball striking his face. The next was the
use of a large breastplate extending quite to the legs.
This is made of rubber, and inflated so as to make a
yielding cushion. The gloves which the catchers have
worn ever since the days of the rubber mouthpiece
have also undergone radical changes, and are to-day so
heavily made as thoroughly to protect both hands,
leaving free only the fingers of the right hand.

Outside the battery, in these days of almost perfect
fielding, the strongest factor is team play. Plenty of
men can be found who can perform the ordinary duty
of basemen and fielders, but the problem is to secure
men for these positions who are strong batsmen and
who harmonize well with one another. The usual
merits for the individual players are : in a first base-
man, ability to catch bad throwing ; in a second base-
man, an especial capacity for covering a large amount
of ground; in a third baseman, rapidity in fielding
ground balls over to first. A third baseman must re-
cover himself quickly and have a strong throw. A
short-stop should be an accurate thrower, and a man
of brains sufficient to take advantage of opportunities
for double plays and fielding out advanced runners.
The out-fielders must be fast, not only in covering
ground, but also in returning balls to the diamond.

Base-ball is a game for the people. The materials
are inexpensive, and all that is wanted is a field. If
one may judge from what one sees by the way, it
is more difficult to say what will not answer for a

BASE-BALL — FOB THE SPEGTATOB 183

ball-field than what will ; f or, in spite of carts, cabs,
and police, no street is too small or too crowded for
Young America to make a ball-field of it. With its
eager young followers everywhere, and with many men
now growing into the prime of life who have enjoyed
it most heartily in their younger days, it is safe to say
that as a sport, and as, par excellence, the American
sport, it is sure of a long life.

BASE-BALL— FOR THE PLAYER

THE GBOUND AND THE OUTFIT

WHILE laying out a base-ball ground is quite
a task, it is not more difficult than marking
tennis-courtSy and the result is much more lasting.
The nature of the ground, and its surroundings, prac-
tically determine the general position of the field ; and
on this account it is usually convenient to take what is
technically known as the " back-stop ^ for a starting-
point. The back-stop is usually the front of the
" grand stand,'' or a convenient fence ; and the rules
provide that the back-stop must be at least ninety feet
behind the home plate. There is no advantage in
making that distance greater, so measuring ninety feet
directly into the field from what is to be the catcher's
back-stop locates the home plate. By fastening a tape
at the home plate, and carrying it out 127 feet 4 inches
in a straight line into the field, the position of the
second base is found. Taking a line 180 feet long,
fasten one end at the home plate and the other at
second base. Then, seizing the line in the middle,
carry it out first at one side, and then on the other,
and where it is taut the locations of the first and third
bases are determined. As the rules regarding the
pitcher's position and the batsman's lines, as well as the
lines restraining the coaches and players, are subject

BASE-BALL— FOB THE PLAYEB 185

to frequent revision, it is best to purchase a book of
base-ball rules of the particular year, and by referring to
the diagrams therein contained determine the proper lay-
out of these lines. One can thus always be sure of being
up to date and thoroughly accurate in the markings of
all these lines. Among the accessories it is customary
to provide a square of canvas sufficiently large to cover
the home plate and batsman's lines, and thus protect
these lines during the practice preliminary to a game.
Having thus laid out the field, we proceed to fur-
ther mark the various points. In doing this, if the
field is to be a permanent one, it is best to make use of
the most improved apparatus ; but if the field is only a
temporary one, there are various devices which save
expense, and which answer the purpose quite satisfac-
torily. The home plate is, by the rules, a whitened
piece of rubber a foot square, sunk flush with the
ground, its out^r edges being within the lines to first
and third bases. An excellent substitute for rubber is
a piece of board painted white, or a bit of marble such
as can be readily obtained at any marble-yard. The
first, second, and third bases are canvas bags, 15 inches
square, stuffed with any soft material, and so fastened
as to have their centers at the corners of the diamond
which we have already marked out. They will thus
extend several inches outside the diamond. The cus-
tomary method of fastening the bag is by means of a
leather strap passing through loops upon the bag and
directly around the center. This strap is slipped
through an iron staple in the top of a post driven
firmly into the ground at the corner of the diamond,
and the strap is then buckled on the under side of the

186 WALTEB CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

bag. The wooden post and the iron staples can be
easily obtained, and it is quite worth while to have
them rather than let the base be movable, or to use a
stone, which may be the cause of some serious injury
to a runner. As for the bags, they can be home-made
by procuring pieces of canvas (or old heavy carpet)
and stuffing them with excelsior or rags, or, best, hair
from an old chair, lounge, or mattress. If nothing
better oflfers, shavings from any carpenter^s shop will
answer. The straps may be obtained at a harness-
maker's, or a piece of stout clothes-line can be sub-
stituted.

Next, the pitcher's box must be permanently marked.
This is done by flat iron plates or stones six inches
square, sunk even with the surface at each comer.
Wooden posts of smaller dimensions will answer
equally well.

It is customary to have the in-field well turfed, and
this turf should extend behind the lines from second
base to first and third for quite a distance, in order
that the short-stop and second baseman may play well
behind these lines. The turf of the out-field is not of
so much importance. The turf of the in-field is cut
out from the pitcher's box to the back-stop to the
width of about nine feet. It is also cut out along the
base lines, about one third that width. After the turf
has been thus cut out, the spaces are filled with hard,
well-packed earth until level with the field. All this
turfing and cutting out of lines is intended, of course,
for a permanent field, and where expense is of minor
consideration. As a matter of fact, the players will
very soon make the base-lines and batting-crease quite

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

187

YTMkouufg

DIAGRAM OF TUB FIELD.

marked on any field. Many a good in-field has no turf
on it, and is called a "scalped^ field. The batted balls
travel faster and lower on such a field, but with greater
regularity.

To make a fair division of labor in laying out a field
for immediate use, let three boys agree to furnish the
iron staples, and posts (preferably of cedar) for the
bases and pitcher's position, seven in all. The four for
the pitcher's box may be anywhere from three to six
inches square at the top, and two feet long ; those for
the bases being three inches in diameter; and all of
these sharpened to drive in like stakes. The staples,
three in number, should be two inches wide. Let
three others agree to furnish the bases : one boy to

188 WALTEB gamp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

provide the six pieces of canvas or carpet cut about
sixteen inches square; another boy to furnish three
two-inch straps with buckles, or else suflScient rope to
answer the purpose. These straps must be at least
three feet long. Let the third boy see that the bags
are looped for the straps, stuffed, and securely sewn.
Let three others agree to furnish the home plate and
to bring to the gi'ound the following implements, to be
used in laying out the positions and marking : a tape
line 200 feet long, a supply of cord, a sharp spade, a
sledge-hammer to drive stakes, a small hammer to
drive in staples, some lime to mark out the lines, and a
pail to wet it in. K any boy has a tennis-marker, let
him bring it ; it will save labor. In marking out the
field for a match, there are a few lines to be made which
are omitted in the above description, as they are only
necessary at an important game. For instance, in or-
dinary games, the imaginary line from home to third
is enough to show the "foul'' ground, as the base-line
worn by runners makes a fair guide. As a matter of
actual law, however, the foul-lines are lines drawn
along the outer edges of the home plate and passing
through the outer edge of the first and third bags. The
foul-line thus does not run exactly along the base-line
which we originally marked out, but, starting with it,
is 7i inches from it at third and first. It is, of course,
wholly within the cut of three feet where the turf has
been taken out. These foul-lines should extend to the
boundaries of the ground, and should then be pro-
longed back of the home plate to the end of the field,
forming the "catcher's lines," as they are called.
The " coacher's " or " captain's lines " are determined

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

189

by taking two points fifteen feet from a foul-line and
seventy-five feet from the catcher's line, then drawing
two lines on each side, one parallel to the foul-line, the
other parallel to the catcher's line.

The "player's lines '^ are drawn from the catcher's
lines, fifty feet from the foul-lines, and parallel to

LATINO OUT AM AMATEUR FIKLD.

them. As both these coacher's and player's lines are
drawn merely to keep the men in their proper places,
where they will not interfere with the game, and as
the catcher's lines are in turn drawn as points of
measurement for the other lines, it is hardly worth
while to go to all this trouble except for an important
match.

For the benefit of those players whose club treasury
is in such a prosperous condition as to make unneces-
sary the home-made devices described above, it is

190 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

well to say that a set of base bags with straps and
spikes can be purchased at any base-ball outfitter's for
$4, $5, or $7, according to quality, while a rubber
home-plate costs $7, a marble one $3, and an iron
one $1.

The next articles for our consideration are the im-
plements for the players. The best ball to purchase is
the regular " league ** ball. These balls are the most
uniform in manufacture and quality, and give the best
satisfaction in the long run. They can be purchased
for $1.50, with a discount for quantity. It is worth
while to purchase more than one, because it often
happens that wet grass ruins the cover of the baD.
For this reason, when a base-ball has been used in wet
weather it should be put aside, and the next time the
nine wish to practise on a wet day this ball, which
will be as hard as a rock, should be brought out. As
soon as it is wet it softens again, and it is just as use-
ful as a new one would be after fifteen minutes' wet-
ting. This constant wetting rots the covers, but a
harness-maker wiQ re-cover the balls, and they may be
used for practice. In the kinds of bats there is far
more variety. A special bat is said to be made of
wagon-tongue, but the more commonly favored is of
ash, second-growth, and thoroughly seasoned. These
can be purchased for from twenty-five cents to one dol-
lar each, according to the quality of the wood. Lighter
bats are made of willow; and the cheapest, of bass-
wood. These do not last so well as ash, however. The
rules specify that the bat shall not be over 2i inches in
diameter, nor more than 42 inches in length. In select-
ing a bat, individual taste is the best guide as to mat-

BASE-BALL — FOE THE PLAYEE 191

ters of weight and balance, but the grain should be ex-
amined carefully, in order that one may not choose a
stick that will leave him in the lurch by breaking just
as he becomes accustomed to it. The grain should run
lengthwise, and not cross sharply, particularly over
the handle. A knot in the handle will often lead to a
break, but one farther down toward the end is not of
any moment. If a bat is varnished highly, the handle
should be scraped, so that it will not turn easily in the
hands. The first baseman and catcher should each
wear gloves to protect the hands from the constant
pounding of the ball which playing these positions
involves. Any one can make a very serviceable pair
of base-ball gloves out of a stout pair of buckskins.
The fingers and thumbs should be cut off at the first
joint for the basemen, and if any extra padding is
needed, pieces of felt can be sewn on. The catcher's
gloves can be made in a similar way, except that the
left-hand glove is kept whole and the ends of the
fingers reinforced by heavy leather tips. A shoemaker
will put on these tips, and they should be about an
inch and a half long. Both gloves should have pad-
ding in the palm and over the ball of the thumb. This
padding can be made of as many layers of felt as are
desired, sewn in when the glove is turned wrong side
out. Many of the best catchers prefer to do their own
padding. The pads should be so cut that they run up
into the finger a little way, and thus form a protection
for the base of the fingers. By those who wish to pur-
chase gloves, and thus save the trouble of making
them, the catcher's gloves can be purchased for $3.50
and $5. The basemen's gloves cost about $2.50. Every

192 WALTEB CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

man who intends playing behind the bat should wear a
mask, and it is best to purchase a good one, as the
cheap ones are likely to be fragile, not well made, and
may perhaps be broken by a foul tip. While an acci-

?EE%i^^^

ABTICLE8 OF A BASS-BALL OUTFIT.

dent from a broken mask is very unusual, as the wires
are so bent as to spring outward when broken, still it
is not well, for the sake of a slight saving, to run any
risks of this kind, A good mask will cost from $2
to $4.

A body protector is also an admirable invention, and
saves many a bruise. The cheaper ones are made of
leather and canvas, and cost about $5. The best are
made of rubber, and can be inflated so as to form a
kind of air pillow. These cost from $6 to $10.

Individual uniforms next attract our attention. A
tennis or cricket suit, or any set of flannels, will answer
nicely. A flannel shirt and an old pair of long trousers
tied or strapped in at the ankles was an old-fashioned
uniform, and it is just as serviceable to-day. The
most convenient trousers, however, are of the knicker-
bocker pattern, and it is well to pad them heavily

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLATEB 193

at the knees and along the side of the leg and thigh,
particularly if one is to do any sliding to bases. This
padding can be made by quilting in any heavy pieces
of cloth. The long stockings should be heavy and
stout, and extend well above the knee. The shoes
should be broad and easy, with low heels, and may be
of canvas or leather, the latter being the most lasting.
A triangular spike is placed on the sole of each shoe in
order to prevent slipping, and of these spikes, the
broad ones are the easiest and best. Sometimes a
smaller plate is worn on the heel as well. The pitcher
should have upon the toe of his right shoe a metal
plate, to prevent the speedy wearing out of the shoe in
pitching. This plate is a sort of cap, and covers the
inside corner of the shoe. Any shoemaker can put one
on. A cap with a visor is the most convenient form of
headgear, and interferes least with the player's com-
fort. Complete uniforms can be purchased from the
outfitters for from $5 to $30. Below is a list of the
separate articles, showing the range in prices : Shirts,
$2.00 to $5.00 ; trousers, $1.75 to $4.50 ; stockings, 50c.
to $1.50 ; caps, 50c. to $1.00 ; belts, 25c. to 30c. ; shoes,
$2.00 to $7.00 ; spikes, 15c. to 75c. ; toe-plate, 50c.

Base-ball is a game so entirely dependent upon the
condition of the ground and weather, that it never can
become, in our climate, an all-the-year-round pastime.
No one can play base-ball when the fingers are numb
with cold, nor can there be any play upon a ground
covered with snow. But the sport has become so
scientific, and practice is so essential to its highest
development, that quite a proportion of the players
have now taken up some systematic winter practice.

194 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS

Particularly is this the case among college and school
nines. Professionals, making a business of following
the game, can travel to Southern cities, where they
may anticipate the Northern season by several weeks
of outdoor practice; but those who seek it merely as
a pastime cannot enjoy any such means of attaining
additional skill. College and school boys, therefore,
have recourse to gymnasiums, where, by a judicious
use of certain apparatus, they prepare themselves for
the regular field work. Some of the best equipped
of these gymnasiums have long, low alleys, completely
bounded by two walls and a wire netting, in which
throwing and batting can be practised. These are
known as "cages.^ The irregular and indiscriminate
use of the apparatus, or even of the cage, results in
little good to the player, but a systematic and well-
directed use of both tends to put a nine into the field
in a superior condition for the work required. In
addition to this, the benefit to the general health of
regular exercise during the winter and early spring
is not to be disregarded as a factor in the problem
of developing successful nines. The use of the ap-
paratus should be directed toward the development
and strengthening of the various muscles which are
to bear the brunt of the labor when on the field.

Many of the exercises really need no equipment
such as a gymnasium affords, and one can take advan-
tage of any room at home. A pair of dumb-bells, the
Indian-clubs, a rope fastened to the ceiling or a beam,
an old foot-ball hung as a "punching-bag,** another
rope, on which a heavy " spool ^ slides freely, stretched
from a point about the height of a man's shoulder

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

195

up to the opposite wall, where it joins the ceiling —
such an amount of apparatus will give full opportunity
for the best kind of exercise. The only part needing
any explanation is, perhaps, the sliding-spool. This
is an admirable device for cultivating the muscles
used in throwing. The point at which the spool

THE BODY PROTECTOR AND CATCHER'S M A0K.

would come in contact with the ceiling should be well
padded with some rather inelastic substance, in
order that the spool may not rebound too severely.
By throwing the spool along the rope a number of
times daily, any man can acquire a powerful throw.
The winter work of a college nine will give a good
idea of the methods practised in indoor preparation.
There are usually at least twenty candidates for posi-

196 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

tions, and, as it is impossible that all should prac-
tise the same work at the same time, these candidates
are usually divided into squads of perhaps four men
each. The times are so arranged as to give to each
squad an allotted hour in which they can have the
use of the cage and other apparatus. These squads
are still further subdivided into pairs, and, while two
of them occupy the cage, the other two make use of
the running-track and apparatus. In the use of the
cage the men do not attempt to practise violently,
but rather to acquire good form, both in batting and
fielding. One of the men pitches for the other to
bat, and the batter endeavors to meet the ball squarely,
with the bat moving on a line. He also is particular
to accustom himself to meet the ball at any height,
and to stand firmly on his feet when striking. In
fielding practice one of the men bats grounders for
his comrade, who stands at the other end of the cage,
and, picking up the ball, throws it at a spot marked
on the end wall at about the height of a man's chest.
The batter does not drive the ball as hard as possible
at his companion, but at a medium rate of speed. In
picking up and throwing, the first thing to acquire
is quickness and freedom of movement. Accuracy
and force come very rapidly in this daily practice,
so that a player soon finds it simple enough to take
the ball cleanly and get it easily down to the mark.
On the running-track, the men take a few turns to
limber up, and then practise quick starting, and
short, sharp spurts at full speed, rather than the more
leisurely, long-continued run of the men who are
training for boating honors.

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

197

In connection with the running-track one should
mention a device for practising sliding to bases which
has proved of the greatest practical advantage to
players. One of the college nines, by making use

PITCHER AT PBACnCB IN THS ** CAGE."

of this sliding-bag during their winter practice, ac-
quired such dexterity as to have for that year a record
in stealing bases more than three times that of any
other nine in the association. This sliding apparatus
may be rigged up in a variety of ways, the only ob-
ject to be attained being the arrangement of a yield-
ing cushion upon which a man may practise sliding
imtil he acquires sufficient confidence and dexterity
to make it no effort of will for him to plunge head-

198 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

foremost at the base. The first one of these cushions
consisted of a frame, about fifteen feet long and three
or four feet wide, upon which was tightly stretched
a piece of carpet.

The work with the boxing-gloves is designed to
improve the man's general muscular development,
make him quick and firm upon his feet, and rapid in
judgment and action. The men usually devote most
of the time to going through a certain set of exer-
cises, rather than to indulging in "slugging'' matches.
The dumb-bells, Indian-clubs, and other genei*al ap-
paratus in a gymnasium are used with a view to
acquiring a uniform development as well as a con-
siderable range of muscular action. Whenever any
player is inordinately or unevenly developed in any
set of muscles (particularly if he has over-developed
the shoulders), he is not encouraged to strengthen
the already too powerful muscles, but is so trained
as to give them flexibility and freedom of action.
Exercise that toughens the hands — such as swin^ng
on the flying-rings, or rope-climbing — is found to be
useful.

After the men have gone through their round of
exercise, they take a shower-bath, are thoroughly
" rubbed down," and then their training is over for the
day. The amount of time required is probably not
more than an hour or an hour and a half, and yet the
effect upon the condition of the men is quite notice-
able before the end of the month. In no respect is the
result of this gymnasium work more evident than in
the improvement in throwing. Not only is it the ex-
ception to find men who have undergone this winter

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB 199

work suffering from lame arms when they begin prac-
tice on the field, but the accuracy and strength of their
throwing is also greatly increased. One of the reasons
for this is, that in throwing in the cage the player is
compelled to throw the ball low, because of the low
ceiling, which continually operates to improve the
player's ability to shoot the ball along on a line rather
than " up and over.''

The winter training outside of this regular gymna-
sium practice, is not considered to be of any veiy great
importance. The men pay no special attention to their
diet, but avoid every kind of excess. An outdoor cage
is sometimes erected, in which the men may have out-
door practice in pleasant weather. The chief advan-
tage of this cage is the better light for batting. It is
also possible by its use to get a little real practice on
taking grounders. The outdoor cage is usually a very
crude affair, and consists of netting so strung on posts
as to encompass an alley about seventy feet long by
twenty wide.

With the first warm sunshine that comes after the
frost is out of the ground, there stirs in the heart of
the base-ball player an intense desire to get into the
field and begin playing. I remember a young man
who used to work in clock factories in Connecticut.
Although an excellent workman, he never seemed to
secure any permanent position, but drifted from one
town to another. Early one fall he applied to me for a
I)osition, and as he showed that he knew his trade he
obtained employment. He worked admirably and well,
through the winter and even into the spring. One
day — and it was a beautiful day, everything just

200

WALTEE camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

turning green and the sun shining as bright and warm
as in midsummer — I missed him, and asked the fore-
man of the room what had become of him, " Oh, he 's

PRACT18INO THKOWWO WITH THK SPOOL.

oflf,'' was the reply ; " he '11 get his kit to-morrow, and
you won't see him again till next fall." I took pains
to meet the young man the next morning, when he
came to take away his traps. " What 's the matter f " I
inquired. " Nothing," said he, " 'cept yesterday I heard
a blue-bird singin', and I don't do any work in shops

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB 201

after that.** A similar yearning to be out of doors
tempts the ball-player. Many times the fine weather
is treacherous, and premature practice is cut short, or
even rendered detrimental to the welfare of a nine, by
damp, chilly winds. As a rule, it is wise to take advan-
tage of only the very warmest days, practising in the
early afternoon, until the weather is fairly settled.
The New York nine were once obliged to take a vaca-
tion, after a few weeks of practice in a cold spring,
because so many of the men had lamenesses of one kind
or another from exposure in inclement weather. When
a college nine goes on the field for the first time, there
is usually a superfluity of enthusiasm, which leads
players to practise too long or too violently. Captains
have learned this, and, unless they are carried away
with the same tendency, do not encourage any long
practice during the first weeks. After that, as the men
become "broken in^ and the weather improves, the
players are allowed to do more work. All the men
playing in the out-field can practise together, as the
work of the three fielders is much the same. These j^
men take positions in the out-field in something of a
cluster (not so near, however, as to interfere with one
another), while a batter knocks fly-balls out to them
which they take turns in catching. A most important
preliminary to this practice is the selection of an ex-
perienced man to bat the ball. There are many men who
may be good players, but to whom knocking flies to an
out-field is an utter impossibility. Such men may
have to hit the ball a half-dozen times before sending
a fly-ball near any of the fielders. Again, it is not ad-
visable to select a man who knocks only the simplest

202 WALTER CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS

kind of flies every time, — although such a man is to he
preferred to the wild hitter who sends the men chasing
a half-dozen failures in order to receive one catch.
The batter should be able to knock high flies, line hits,
long flies, and occasionally a sharp, hot grounder. His
object is to give the fielders as much practice of every
kind as possible, and a good man will gauge the
ground the fielders can cover, and, while avoiding
" running them to death,^ will occasionally give each
man an opportunity to make a brilliant catch. Nothing
encourages and improves the candidates so much as
keeping their ambition thoroughly aroused during the
entire time of practice.

FIELDING, THEOWING, AND GENERAL PRACTICE

Candidates for in-field positions are usually too
numerous to admit of their all practising together,
as would-be out-fielders may do. On this account it
is customary for them to take turns, in parties of
perhaps four at a time. The others, who are obliged
to wait their turn, make themselves useful as bats-
men to the rest; or they may stand about half-way
between the out-fielders and the man batting to them,
and thereby get an occasional ball, besides returning
the ball to the batter for the out-fielders. To those
who take the bases balls are sent in turn, or occa-
sionally at random, which they field over to the first-
base man. He usually practises throwing to third
base. The batsman contrives to give each man a
variety of balls, mostly grounders, such as each would

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

203

be called upon to take in a game. An occasional
short high fly is knocked, and once in a while a sharp
liner. While the ball is sometimes batted directly at
the fielder, the best practice for him is to have it sent
frequently upon one side or the other of the place upon

BATmra fob the fieldebs' practice.

which he stands. Thus, in the case of the third base-
man, whose position is a few feet inside the line to
the home plate and a little behind the line from
second to third, balls should be batted not only along
the front line occasionally, but very often several feet
toward the short-stop. One of the best arrangements
between a short-stop and a third baseman is for the
latter to take all slow hits coming where he can run
in and handle them, while the short-stop plays what is

204 WALTER GAMP'S BOOK OF CX)LL£G£ SPOBTS

known as a "deep-field,^ — that is, considerably back
of the base line, — and takes whatever baUs the third
baseman cannot reach on account of their speed or
direction. In this way much more ground can be
satisfactorily covered by these two men. When men
are practising these plays, the batter should send
some slow, bounding balls directed toward the short-
stop, and the third baseman should run in on them
and handle them. Then a sharp drive should be sent,
which the short-stop will receive, as the other could
not reach it in time. It is not a difficult matter for
two men to acquire this style of play, and when once
it is learned it makes a very strong fielding com-
bination.

The second baseman plays about on a line with
his base, but away from it toward first some twenty
feet or so. The batter should send the balls on both
sides of him, extending his field as much as possible.
In batting over the second-base bag, however, the
batter should not drive the ball too fast, or it will be
practically a base-hit, and too many such drives tend
to discourage the player who zealously tries for each.
A slow hit is one of the most difficult for a second
baseman to handle, particularly if he plays well back
in order to cover ground. It is not so much that he
cannot run up rapidly on it, but that it usually comes
to him just about the spot most cut up by the base
line, and where an irregular bound puts it out of the
question for him to field it cleanly. On this account
the batter should give the second baseman plenty
of this very kind to take, in order that he may acquire
the habit of rapid judgment as to how far in he should

BilSE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYER 205

meet the balL A fly should be occasionally batted
almost over the first baseman^s head, just a little too
high for that player to reach. The second baseman
can take many of these, and practice soon shows him
that he can cover a deal of ground there.

In batting to the first baseman, balls should be
knocked that force him to use good judgment as to
whether he should go after them or let the second
baseman take them. These and slow grounders along
the base line are the ones upon which he will need
the most practice. y^

While the in-field and out-field are thus getting
their general practice, the batteries are usually "lim-
bering up,'' although the pitcher should be careful
not to indulge in a severe delivery until he faces
a batsman, as it is too great a strain upon him for
nothing. He should strive merely to get the mus-
cles of his arm working easily and freely, while the
catcher also warms himself up gradually to the work.

Batting practice can be had in two ways: first, by
placing the batter at the plate and stopping the or-
dinary practice in the in-field; second, by stationing
him out to one side, where he will not materially in-
terfere with the practice. The latter is preferable, as
accomplishing more work in the same time.

The regular pitchers ought not to be obliged to do
all the pitching for this batting practice. In fact, it
is best to have them do only as much of it as they
can do without getting at all tired or listless. Two
or three men who throw well and have a moderate
control of the curves should be brought out to do a
greater part of this rather tedious work. Nothing is

206 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

more demoralizing to a good pitcher than to keep
him pitching for batting practice, until he becomes
tired and careless. Each man should be given a cer-
tain number of hits, until all have had a turn. After
this it is wise to select the most promising nine men,
and arranging them in their positions, to place a tenth
man at the bat and one or two substitutes on the
bases. Then let the playing be as if it were a regu-
lar game. This gives a new and added interest just at
the time when the men are perhaps becoming a little
tired. After fifteen minutes of this work, the captain,
or (if he be not a successful batter for the practice)
some other player, takes the bat and ball and, stand-
ing on the home plate, knocks the ball to the in-field
or out-field, as he chooses, calling out at the same
time what play to make with the ball. In this he
should give every man some difficult play to execute;
such, for instance, as stationing a runner on third
with instructions to try to come in on a fly after the
ball is caught, and then knocking a fly to the out-
fielder and having him send the ball in to the plate
to intercept the man. A few double plays in the
in-field, some practice in catching a ninner between
bases, a little throwing to second by the catcher, and
some fielding home by the in-field should complete
the work of the day.

Now, a few words regarding the objects to be aimed
at in this general practice. First, as regards throw-
ing. Every one has what may be called a natural
way of throwing the ball, but this so-called ** natural
way^ usually means a perverted method acquired
through carelessness, or attempts to throw too hard

BilSE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB 207

before the arm is suflBciently accustomed to the work.
As a result of this, there are few boys or college men
who may not learn a great deal in the matter of
throwing by careful attention for a few weeks to one
or two points. The first man to whom attention
should be called is the man who takes a hop, skip,
and jump before he lets the ball go. No man can
run fast enough to beat a thrown ball, and conse-
quently it takes longer to carry the ball part way
and throw it the rest, than it does to throw it all
the way. Therefore the first thing for the man who
has acquired this trick to do, is to stand still when
he gets the ball, and then throw it. The opposite
fault to this is that of leaning away when throwing.
A man gets a sharp grounder, and throws the ball
before he has recovered his balance, and the force of
his throw is thereby greatly diminished. While this
is not nearly so common as the other fault, it is
quite as difficult to correct. The happy medium be-
tween the two is the man who receives the ball and,
quickly straightening himself, drives it while leaning
forward; and, as it leaves his hand, takes his single
step in the direction of his throw.

So much for the feet and body, now for the arm,
hand, and wrist.

The best and most accurate throwers are those who
continually practise what is termed a short-arm throw.
To get an idea of the first steps toward the acquisition
of this method, let the player take the ball in his hand,
and bringing it back just level with his ear, planting
both feet firmly, attempt to throw the ball without
using the legs or body. At first the throw is awkward

209

WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

and feeble, bat constant practice speedily results in
moderate speed and peculiar accuracy. After steady
practice at this until quite a pace is acquired, the man
may be allowed to use his legs and
body to increase the speed, still,
however, sticking to the straight,
forward motion of the hand, wrist,
and the arm. The secret of the
throw is, of course, keeping the
hand in a line with the arm and
not swinging it out to the side
and away from the head, where
much of the accuracy and some
of the quickness is lost. Certain
catchers have brought this style
of throw to such a pitch of per-
fection as to get the ball away
toward second almost on the in-
stant it strikes the hands. They
aid the throwing by a slight twist
of the body.

The quickness of this method of throwing is due to
the fact that there is no delay caused by drawing
back the arm past the head or by turning the body
around, which lose so much valuable time. Its accu-
racy is due to the fact that it is easier to aim at an
object with a hand in front of the eyes than when it is
out beyond the shoulder. One can easily ascertain this
by comparing the ease of pointing the index finger at
any object when the hand is in front of the face, with
the difficulty of doing so when the arm is extended out
sideways from the body. Still further, in the almost

SHOKT-AKM THHOW,
THE BEOUnriNG.

BilSE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

209

round-arm throwing, which niany players use, the
hand describes an arc, and the ball must be let go at
the proper point to go true. If let go at any other
point in the swing, the throw is certain to be wild.
In the other method, that of straight-arm throwing,
any variation is far more likely to be a variation
in height only, and in that respect the variation
may be greater without serious error. A straight-
arm throw sends a ball much easier to handle than
the side-arm style. The latter is likely to curve,
bound irregularly, and be more inconvenient for the
baseman. In-field throwing should be on a line, as
much as possible, and there are few distances to be
covered there that require any "up
and over'' throwing. In getting a
ball in from a deep out-field, the
distance is sometimes so great that
none but professionals or excep-
tionally strong throwers can drive
the ball in except by giving it
quite an upward direction; even
then, however, one should be care-
ful to keep the ball fairly well
down, as it is far better to have it
reach the catcher on the bound
than to go sailing over his head.
" Keep it down '^ is a cardinal rule
when fielding to the home plate
from the field. If a low ball be
thrown, it is easier for the catcher to touch the runner,
who in a tight place will invariably slide as close to the
ground as possible. A high throw gives the catcher

SHOKT-ARM THROW,
THE END.

210

WALTEB camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

almost no chance to recover and put the ball on the
man, whereas a low throw brings his hands in the
most advantageous position for touching the runner.

FIB8T BA8BMAM THBOWINO TO SECOND FOB A DOUBLE-FLAT.

The same is, of course, true in the case of the catcher's
throws to the second or the other bases, to put out
the runner.

The position of the fingers when throwing a ball is a
point upon which there are individual diflferences of
opinion ; but the majority of the best throwers in the
country use principally the fore-finger and middle-
finger in giving direction to the balL Further partic-
ulars regarding special throwing will be noted in
commenting upon the individual positions.

Handling the ball well is quite as important an ele-
ment in the game as throwing. By the non-playing
spectator there is little difl!erence noted between the

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 211

various way3 of catching a fly or picking up a
grounder. MuflEs and fumbles are the only errors of
this kind which excite their adverse comment ; but, in
point of fact, there are errors almost as serious which
entirely escape their observation. A player may hang
back from a slow hit so long that even though he
pick it up well and throw it accurately the runner will
nevertheless reach his base. Indeed, the scorer may
give it as a base-hit, and the fielder escape a deserved
error. Again, a fielder may, by not starting quickly
enough, be obliged to turn and run with a fly so that
he catches it while facing away from the plate, and is
thus unable to fleld the ball in, in time to intercept
a runner who starts from third after the catch.
Sometimes it is necessaiy to catch the ball in this
way, but it should be the last resort ; not only because
it is very difficult, but also because this method makes
it impossible to get a quick return of the ball when
required. An in-flelder should always take the ball
while coming forward if possible. This does not mean
that he should dash madly into the ball, but that his
weight should be moving in an advantageous direc-
tion when he takes it. It is best to bring the heels
together just as the player stoops for the ball, if it be a
low one, and hug the ground closely. The knees should
bend, and the hands and arms, as they go down, will
make, with the legs, an almost impassable barrier, so
that even should the player fail to get the ball cleanly
in his hands, he will stop it, and perhaps still have time
to field it. The end to be aimed at is, of course, to
always take the ball on a good bound ; but no one can
rely upon doing this invariably, as irregularities of the

212 WALTER CAMPUS BOOK OF CX)LLEGE SPORTS

ground and the peculiarities of batting render exact
results impossible. The fielder must also bear in mind
the fact that he should take the ball on the earliest good
bound, and not, by waiting or backing away, make his
throw necessarily a hurried one. There are times
when good judgment leads a player to take the ball a
little late; as, for instance, when he has an opportunity
for a double-play with the ball coming directly at the
base he wishes to cover. By a step backward he can
take the ball while his foot is touching the bag, and
then instantly throw to the other base; whereas by
meeting the ball early, he would have to run back a
step or two to touch the base before throwing.

Eapidity of judgment is more valuable in base-ball
than in almost any other sport, and it is only this
quick thinking which will enable a player to take
every advantage that offers. Wherever it is practi-
cable, a fielder should endeavor to take the ball in the
most convenient position for immediate throwing
to the quarter where the ball is most needed. For in-
stance, a right-handed player should, as far as possi-
ble, avoid taking the ball while turned to the left, when,
by a little extra effort, he can bring himself squarely in
front of it. The out-fielders will profit by the same
advice as has been given for the in-fielders, and in
addition they should remember that they have far
more distance to cover. When a ball is pitched, every
out-fielder should be ready for an instant start, and
if a fly be batted each should be off toward the spot
where it will probably fall. Of course, if the ball is
falling in left-field, the right-fielder after a step or two
may stop; but the center-fielder should go on, not to

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

213

take the fly, but to be ready to assist if the ball goes
through the left-fielder's hands. An out-fielder should
bear in mind one cardinal principle, namely, that he
should run as fast as possible until he nears the spot

MAKING 8DRE OF A CATCH.— LEFT-FIKLDER CATCHINO,
CENTER-FIELDEB BACKINO HIM UP.

where the ball is coming. Then he can slow up, but
his fast running should begin as he starts, and not
after he has gone half way, and finds that he is likely
to be late. A moderate runner who starts instantly
for the right spot makes a far better fielder than a
more speedy man who gets off slowly, and whose judg-
ment of the spot where the ball will probably land
is not so good. A fly should always be handled in

214 WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

front of a man if possible, as he is then in a better
position to throw it if caught, as well as to stop and
return it if a muff is made. In taking a grounder,
an out-fielder should sacrifice rapidity of handling to
security. A ground hit which goes by an out-fielder
is so disastrous that no chance of missing it should
be taken. He must stop it, even though, as the ex-
pression has it, he has to "lie down before it.'' The
out-field is usually rougher and more irregular than
the in-field, and hence the player must be more care-
ful to put himself directly in the pathway of the ball
In catching a fly, the hands should be used cup-
fashion, the thumbs up and the lower edges of the
hands brought close together. Line-hits can not, of
course, be handled in this way, but must be taken
like thrown balls, with the little fingers in front and
the thumbs forming the back of the cup; a low ball,
with the thumbs forward and the edges of the hands
forming the back. It is occasionally necessary to take
a ball directly over the head, owing to a sudden
change in its direction due to the wind carrying it
over the player. Such balls must be taken with the
little fingers up and the thumbs making the bottom
of the cup.

The base-nmning practice of a nine consists for the
most part of quick starting and bold sliding. The
gymnasium work will have added gi'eatly to the abili-
ties of the men in these directions, but this must be
reinforced by daily work on the field. The point
most neglected, and yet the most vital to success, is
a quick start for first after hitting the ball. Many a
slow hit is turned into a base-hit by the speed and

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLATEB

215

216 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

quickness of the runner. Many an error is saved an
in-fielder by the slowness of the batter in getting
under way. Every man should be made to practise
this start until he springs toward first the instant the
ball leaves his bat. If a player can be impressed with
the importance of this, by showing him how often it
is that the ball beats the runner by the merest frac-
tion of a second, he will appreciate the advantage to
be gained, and will himself use all his energies toward
the acquisition of this quick start.

Such points of play must be made habitual to the
player by constant practice, because, no matter how
much he may desire to make them at certain times,
as, for instance, in the ninth inning, with perhaps his
single run required to win, he is not capable of doing
so unless his former work has been directed toward
acquiring them.

The next practice is in " stealing second.'' The bat-
tery should be placed in their places, and the runner
on first base. The pitcher should hold the runner as
close to the base as he can by motions and an occa-
sional throw, exactly as he would in a game, and the
runner should be sent down when a good opportimity
offers. He should be coached to take as great a lead
as he can with security, always bearing in mind, how-
ever, that he should not lead off so far as to make
it necessary for him to be off his balance in the wrong
direction, for a good start is worth two or three feet
of lead. In taking his lead he should be willing to
go far enough at times to make it necessary for him
to go back for first with his hands if the pitcher
throws to the bag, for by getting back in that way

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

217

'' <

>
C

218 WALTER CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE 8P0BTS

he is enabled to take a little longer lead. When he
starts for second, it should be with his whole heart
and as if his life depended upon it. Here again,
if necessary, he must slide for it, going head first at
the base, and taking it with his hand. When the base-
man is in the way it is sometimes necessary to slide
feet first in order to avoid injury.

There are two cautions to be remembered in this
play. One is to slide as far behind the baseman as
it is possible to do, and yet catch the bag; the other,
not to begin to slide so early as to lose the advantage
of the last step or two of the run. This last caution
is by no means a needless one, as men who are expert
at sliding are very likely to fall into the habit of "slid-
ing up to the bag " ; beginning the slide so early as
to lose headway and valuable speed, and thus be so
slow as to be touched by the baseman before the
hand reaches the bag.

THE BASEMEN AND THE SHOBT-STOP

DuBiNG all the general training involved in the prac-
tice mentioned in the former paragraphs, there must
also be particular coaching for each individual posi-
tion ; and it is in this position-work that the players
improve most rapidly, later in the season, when each
has been assigned to his own place.

The in-fielders are the first to exhibit the good
effects of practice, and the methods of perfecting their
play are most interesting. For instance, the third
baseman usually begins his season by very slow

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYEB

219

playing He finds that from third base to first is a
considerable distance, and that he has to make an
eflfort in order to get the ball over. As a result of this
feeling, it takes him longer to throw than it should,
and any ball batted sharply and rather close to his
base is a safe hit ; because, even if he stop it, the run-
ner will reach the base before the baseman can field it.

'^'"- -^x

The first coaching, then, for the third baseman should
be with the object of acquiring a sharp, strong throw.
He must therefore practise steadily the short-arm
throw already described — the hand being brought
back and close to the ear, and nearly level with it,
instead of swinging at arm's-length, away from the
body. For some time it will perhaps seem almost im-
possible to get the ball over to first by means of
this throw, but in a week's practice that result is
achieved satisfactorily, and thenceforth the third base-
man will be little troubled about his throwing. His
speed and accuracy will be increased by every day of

220 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS

his practice, and he will seldom disgrace himself by
anything like a wild throw.

Of all the in-fielders, it especially belongs to this
player to throw swiftly, and also to get the ball away
quickly. To acquire this latter skill should not be
nearly so difficult as most amateurs And it. The rea-
son for their difficulty lies in the fact that the ordinary
player does not analyze the play sufficiently in his own
mind to discover in just what part of it he is deficient.
The result is, that the entire play becomes hurried and
inaccurate; and once careless, instead of improving
the player is likely to retrograde.

Just to illustrate this, let us analyze the play : Sup-
pose a ball be batted parallel to the third-base line
two feet inside that line. The ordinary amateur third
baseman, by failing to make a sharp start, is obliged
to take such a ball just as it goes by the bag, and as a
result he is turned partially away from first base,
and is running from that point as well. This makes
it necessary for him first to stop his run and then to
turn about, so as to face the base before throwing. All
this preparation takes so much time that there is sel-
dom much use in his throwing the ball over at all; but
as he is too hurried to realize this, over it goes, — not
infrequently with a wild throw into the bargain.

Now let us watch a good professional, and note the
difference. I remember seeing Denny, at one time a
noted third baseman, execute this play once on a
"scorching drive'' just inside the line. The instant
the bat hit the ball, I saw Denny jump for the third-
base line. So quick was the spring and so clever the
intuition by which, from the direction of the stroke, he

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYEE 221

realized where the ball was coming, that he and the
ball met in front of third base; and Denny was actually
throwing the ball to first before the runner had taken a
half-dozen steps. Of course, all third basemen are not
so quick and clever as Denny, but every amateur who
fills that position can by an instant start, instead of a

'JUMP VX FRONT OF TUB BALL.*'

slow one, meet the majority of batted balls before they
can go so far past him as to turn him away from first.
To turn away from first is the great fault, and to its
correction the coach must give his attention, and the
player must direct his labor. "Jump in front of the
ball,^ is the best coaching order that can be given
any in-fielder, but it is particularly good for the third
baseman.

Picking up the ball is the next step of the play. If
possible it should be taken cleanly in the hands, of
course ; but that is not of nearly so much moment as
to get in front of it early, and thus stop it. K a third
baseman gets a sharp hit anywhere in front of the
line from second to third, and he is a swift thrower, he

222 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OP COLLEGE SPOBT8

can stop the ball by letting it strike him, and, picking
it up, get it to first base before the runner. But if the
fielder takes the ball a few feet behind that line and
while running toward foul gi'ound, the best handling
will seldom enable him to catch the runner.

Finally comes the execution of the throw itself. He
should use the short-arm throw and lean toward first.
This latter suggestion is an important one, and should
be continually in the player's mind during his daily
practice. Whenever he gets the ball he should recover
speedily, and with what becomes almost a second nature,
should lean toward the point to which he is to throw.
The entire action in detail, then, should be : instantly
jump in front of the ball ; while picking it up, recover
a steady position, and leaning toward first, throw as
nearly on a line as possible. Of these, the particular
part of the play which can be hurried to least advan-
tage, and yet the part which the inexperienced fielder
oftenest endeavors to hurry, is picking up the ball. It
is never good policy to snatch at the ball instead of
picking it up.

The tenor of this advice is applicable as well to all
the in-fielders, but the third baseman's position is one
in which the desirability of thoroughly steady and
sharp play is especially marked. In handling balls
which must be fielded elsewhere than to first base, sec-
ond and home are usually the objective points for the
third baseman; and it may be laid down as a rule
particularly applicable to the amateur, that he should
take very few chances in these throws. Unless the hit
be a sharp one, and he receive the ball without a
fumble, there is little likelihood of his getting the ball

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYEB 223

to second or home in time to intercept a runner.
When the runner is " forced,'' so that the catcher or
the baseman is not obliged to touch him in order
to put him out, there is a little better chance, and
under such circumstances the play is of course more
advisable.

As illustrating the foolishness of ill-judged attempts
to catch the man at the home plate, I recall a cham-
pionship game between Harvard and Yale, in which,
up to the ninth inning, Yale had led. In fact, Yale
was then three runs ahead.

Singularly enough, on the afternoon before this
game, there had occurred a discussion among members
of the Yale nine as to the advisability of the practice
(then common among all college nines) of always field-
ing to the home plate, when there was but one man
out and a runner was on third. In order to make a
fair test of this question on its merits, a runner was
placed on third and the in-fielders came closer up, as
they were accustomed to do under such circumstances.
The pitcher then would toss the ball, and the batsman
hit it sharply anywhere in the in-field, the runner at
the same time trying to come home. Out of twenty
trials the runner was put out but five times — getting
home safely the other fifteen.

In spite of this experiment, however, when Harvard
was at the bat for the last inning, there being one man
out, a man on second, and one on third, with three
runs to tie and four to win, the Yale in-fielders came
further in and tried to throw the man out at the plate.
Three of these attempts and one single hit gave Har-
vard four runs and the game ; whereas, had the Yale

224 WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

m^n thrown to first they would almost to a certainty
have put out the side at the sacrifice of but one run,
and would have won by two runs.

It Ls not a difficult matter to see the reasons why a
third baseman should seldom attempt to field to the
plate, unless the ball comes fast and on a clean bound.
If the hit be a very slow one, and the base-runner
have anything like the lead he should take, there is no
chance to run up on the ball and throw it to the plate
in season. The ball must be fielded to the catcher in
such a manner as to enable him to touch the runner;
and to field the ball thus from third base is no easy
matter, as it often involves throwing the ball almost
over the runner's shoulder. Under similar circum-
stances I have seen Hankinson, in attempting this
throw, hit the runner squarely between the shoulders;
and although fortunately the blow did not injure the
runner in the least, unfortunately it was impossible
for the catcher to put him out.

In fielding to first the ball may be thrown quite
wide, and yet, by leaning out, the first baseman will
be able to catch it while one foot remains on the base.
If, however, the first baseman were obliged to touch
the runner, as the catcher must do, fully one half the
throws he receives would not be sufficiently accurate
to enable him to execute the play. Moreover, a runner
from third has an advantage of several yards over a
runner to first. If a player wishes to convince himself
of this fact, let him note the exact positions, under
those circumstances, of the batsman who starts for first
base and a good base-runner who is trying to come
home. At the moment the ball leaves the bat, he will

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 225

find that while the batsman is just starting, the runner
from third is nearly half-way home, and besides has a
"flying start.''

In practising putting the ball on a runner, the third
baseman should accustom himself to receiving the
ball from first, second, short, home, and pitcher ; and it

ynm^^^A

"^-^

THIBD BABBMAN IlfTBRCBPTINO THE BUDE OF ▲ RUITNER FROM BBGOND.

is no easy matter to acquire the proper way to receive
the ball thrown from each of these positions. Any
man who thinks the same motion will answer for all
these different cases makes a serious mistake.

In deciding upon the proper method of receiving the
ball, the third baseman will find that much depends
upon the position of the runner. K the runner be
coming back from home, because the pitcher, having
caught him leading off too far, has thrown to third,
the third baseman should step almost into his base
line as he receives the ball, and, swinging his right
hand low, should bring the ball against the runner.

226 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

The pitcher, if he understands the play, will throw into
the line rather than at the base. If the runner be
coming from second, and the first baseman be fielding
the ball over, there is little likelihood of the throw
being sufficiently accurate to allow the play in the
method just described, and the baseman must there-
fore be prepared t^ dther hand, according to the
position of the ru )r at the moment when the ball is
received. Suppose, for instance, that the ball be
thrown five or six feet toward second: the baseman
can tell by sight or hearing just where the runner is,
and if the runner has not reached him he should turn
to the left with the ball in his left hand. If, however,
the ranner is just passing him, he should swing to the
right with the ball in the right hand. In either case,
he need not swing so low as he does when the ball is
thrown nearer the base. In the latter case he should
always almost sweep the ground in his swing, as the
runner is sure to slide. Of course, catching the ball ofi
the man is the perfect method ; but unfortunately the
ball so seldom comes to the proper point that these
other methods of touching the runner must be
practised faithfully.

In the matter of one player assisting another, the
third baseman is more often to be "backed up" than
be called upon to perform that office for some one else.

The short-stop needs the same coaching as the third
baseman, in the way of urging him to jump in front of
the ball, and to start quickly. The combination method
of play, which was mentioned in a previous paragraph
as an excellent one to bring out all the possible ad-
vantages of playing the two positions of short-stop
and third base, requires plenty of practice. Particu-

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER

227

larly must the two players thoroughly understand each
other. A very good way to begin practice upon this
method is to station the third baseman where he can,
by an effort, just cover the ground to his base, and
to tell him to "take everything he can get, out in the

^^i«U

r^M>^«#^**^^v>-' ; ^.tV

FLATINO ▲ TRICK ON THE BASE-RUNNER. THE BALL IB PURP06ELT THROWN BY
THE CATCHER OVER THE THIRD BASEMAN'S HEAD INTO TUB SHORT-8TOP*S HANDS.

diamond.'' The short-stop is then placed well back
of the base Une, as far as he can be and yet be sure
of throwing to first in time to catch the ordinary run-
ner on a hard hit. He must be instructed to "come in
on'' the ball as soon as it is hit and he knows its
direction.

Irwin was one of the first of the professionals to
develop this "deep field" play by a short-stop, and
I remember how very strange it appeared to the col-
legians to see this little fellow station himself almost
half-way out to left field; but before the game was

228 WALTEE camp's BOOK OP COLLEGE SPORTS

ended he had shown himself fully able to cover all
the space he had taken.

A short-stop has to make one peculiar class of plays
in which he should endeavor to become thoroughly
expert, and that is, taking short flies that go just out-
side the in-field but are too low for the out-fielders to
get under. There are also occasional flies near the
foul line, ten or a dozen yards behind third base, which

FIRST BASEMAN TAKIMO A LOW THROW BT REACHllfO VOBWARD.

an agile short-stop may take. No player has ever
been more expert in this line of play than John Ward,
so well known for his advancement of the game.
Many a short fly that the scorers were just putting
down as a base-hit has found a resting-place in his
outstretched hands, simply because he has made a
practice of starting instantly, and of never believing
any fly too far away for him to get.

"Backing up'' is a special feature of the short-
stop's duties. Any ball fielded from the other side
of the diamond to the third or second baseman should
find the short-stop behind the man who is to take
it. This player should be particularly on the alert to
back up the third baseman, when the ball is thrown

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER

229

to that point by the catcher, in order to put out an
adventurous runner. This precaution is necessary,
because any wild throw of the catcher's which the
baseman fails to get will surely admit of the run-
ner's going home unless the short-stop secures the ball.
Sometimes a very good trick is played upon the run-
ner in this way: The short-stop and third baseman
are both advised by a preconcerted signal from the
catcher that he will throw to third ; and then tne short-
stop springs out behind the baseman, and the catcher
sends the ball, but apparently throws it too high — in
fact, throws the ball over the head of the baseman to the
short-stop, and thus deceives the runner into the belief
that he can run home, which, if the short-stop makes
an ordinarily accurate throw, is of course impossible.

A short-stop must also always back up third when
any of the out-fielders are throw-
ing to that point. He should
likewise make himself usefxd
whenever a man is caught be-
tween bases and is being "run
down.''

It is occasionally the duty
of this player to cover second
base when a left-handed batter
is at the plate and a runner is
on first. This is in order that
the second baseman may be
left freer to run after balls to-
ward right field than he would be if obliged to come
back to the second base when the ball is thrown there.
In the execution of this play, the short-stop stands a
few yards nearer second, and runs to that base if

FIRST BABEMAN TAKING A U)W
THBOW ON THE LONG BOUlfD.

230 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

the ball be thrown. In attempting to intercept a run-
ner at the home plate, the same remarks apply to the
short-stop as to the third baseman^ except that, being
away from the base line, he is not obliged to throw
over or by the runner, and so has a slightly better
opportunity. This advantage, however, is partially
compensated for by the greater distance which the
ball has to travel. If the short-stop tries to throw to
the home plate to intercept a runner, he should come
up sharply on the ball, taking it at the earliest pos-
sible bound, and throwing hard. Should he fumble
the ball, let him instantly give up his purpose of
throwing to the plate, and field to first instead, as the
chance of catching that runner is the better.

The second baseman has the shortest distances to
throw of any of the in-fielders; but, on that very
account, he should be able to cover more ground
than any of the rest. He has more time after a hit^
for the distance from the batsman to the position
of the second baseman is the greatest. The player
in this position should be impressed with these advan-
tages in order that he may develop great activity in
the way of covering ground. In no position is a de-
sire to make one's self useful so important; for a sleepy
short-stop or third baseman has so many balls batted
directly at him that he must "play ball" whether in-
clined to be active or not; whereas a second baseman
may stand like a post and escape being hit with the
ball through the entire nine innings. A man who
means to play second for all it is worth, must deter-
mine that no ball shall go by him between the pitcher
and first baseman. It will, however, sometimes hap-

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER

231

232 WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

pen that a ball will be driven past the pitcher and
nearly over the second base. The player at the
latter point may reach it, but cannot handle it in
time to put out the runner. This particular hit he
should regard as his limit, and anything inside of that
he should consider it his bounden duty to take and
field to first in time. Many amateur second basemen,
otherwise excellent, take as their limit a much nar-
rower field, and hence, while they do not make many
errors, their opponents enjoy many little-deserved
^'safe'' hits.

It is well for the second baseman occasionally to
practise underhand throwing to first, as it often hap-
pens in a game that he runs so far over toward first
to receive the ball that he has not time to straighten
up and throw the ball overhand, and a quick un-
derhand throw will get the ball into the first base-
man's hands in time. Throwing of every conceivable
fashion is on this account permissible for a second
baseman, and I have seen one of the best professional
players almost scoop the ball, with one motion of his
hand, from the ground into the first baseman's hands.

When a runner is coming down from first, the
second baseman in covering his own base should not
be so eager to start over to the bag as to put it out of
the question for him to handle a ball batted in his im-
mediate vicinity ; for he should bear it in mind that he
cannot be of any service standing on the second base
if the ball is going along the ground toward right field.
When the runner from first is fairly off, and the
catcher is throwing the ball to second, the baseman
should endeavor to take up such a position in receiv-

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 233

ing the throw as to be just in front of the base line
and a little toward first. Here he must follow the
same instructions relative to touching the runner as
those given the third baseman. He must swing low
and quickly, taking every advantage of the position of
the runner and making the attempt cleanly and in but
one motion. There is very little use in running after
a man and "jabbing" at him with the ball; for even if
the runner were touched the first time, the umpire
naturally judges from the baseman's repeated efforts
that he must have failed in the first attempt, and so
declares the runner "safe."

It is sometimes possible for a good combination of
catcher, pitcher, and second baseman to put out a run-
ner who takes a long lead from second toward third
when the ball is pitched, or who comes back slowly or
carelessly. Burdock on second used to do this very
cleverly. He had a signal (consisting of extending his
left arm out in a straight line from his body, an action
not noticeable to the runner, but very evident to the
catcher) by which he instructed the catcher to perform
the play on the next ball pitched. The method was as
follows : The catcher, instantly upon receiving the ball,
returned it with as swift a throw as the pitcher could
well handle, and he in turn swung around and sent the
ball at second just a little toward third. Burdock, who
had started as soon as the catcher had the ball, would
have reached this spot in the line, and it was a very
lively undertaking for any runner who was not expect-
ing the trick to get back to the bag in time. This
play, as executed by these men, had little in common
with the ordinary attempt of amateurs to execute it —

Z^ WALTER C.VHP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

where there is enough shouting and calling to betray
the plan long before the ball comes. It must, of course,
be done in perfect silence, and the runner should have
no warning until the ball comes flying back.

The second baseman occasionally has an opportu-
nity of backing up first base, although the pitcher is
able to do a large share of this work.

The first baseman's most regular work is catching
thrown balls ; but he has other duties by no means un-
important, chief among which is handling ground-hits.
Like the third baseman, he stands as far from his
base as he can and yet be able to stop any ball sent
between him and the bag. Unlike the third baseman,
however, he cannot be allowed to take everything he
can get in the in-field ; for, as a rule, he must not go
farther from his base than to a point from which he
can return to the bag in time to intercept the runner.
Occasionally a ball is batted in such a manner that the
play can be made to greater advantage by the pitcher's
covering the base, while the baseman himself gets
the ball and throws it to the pitcher. This is suflB-
ciently unusual not to be counted on as a regular
play, and a first baseman should attempt it only at
a call from the pitcher. His best general rule is to
"cover the base.'' In catching balls thrown to him,
he should make a point of acquiring the habit of
stepping from the base with either foot, keeping the
other always on the bag. Many amateurs fall into the
trick of always keeping the same foot on the base and
twisting themselves about in correspondingly awkward
ways. More than this, the man who plays first should
never make the mistake of " putting the cart before

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 235

the horse,'* by keeping his foot on the bag when to do
so he must miss the ball. This is the commonest fault
of all first basemen. I remember hearing Joe Start,
one of the old pioneer base-ball players, who has stood
on first base until his hair is white, say contemptuously
of many a man playing first base, " Humph ! — tied to
the bag l^ It is the duty of the first baseman to catch
or stop the ball any way. If he can do it with his foot
on the base, well and good; if he cannot, then he
must leave the base for the purpose. A moment's con-
sideration of the length of time a first baseman has in
which to move, while the ball is traversing the entire
distance from third, or short, to his base, will give one
some idea of how wild any throw (except a high one)
must be to be out of his reach, provided he dare to
leave the base when necessary. ^

In the handling of a low throw, there is the greatest
opportunity for the exercise of judgment. If a first
baseman will keep one foot upon the bag and step
forward with the other, bendipg the knee, he will see
how far he can reach out with his hands into the dia-
mond. Then if he steps backward, and notes how far be-
hind the base he can take the ball, he will have an idea
of the field of choice he has on a low throw. He should
therefore always endeavor to take a low throw either
on the " pick up " or the " long bound," and avoid that
most disagreeable point of a ball's progress known as a
" short bound." The best of players cannot be sure of
taking a short bound, — there is always an element of
luck in it, — while taking a pick-up, or a long bound, is
far more a question of skill.

Another thing to be remembered by the first base-

236 WALTER CAilP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

man in his practice, as well as in games, is to help the
thrower. For example, when the ball and the runner
seem about to reach the base at the same time, the
baseman, by leaning forward into the diamond and
toward the thrower, can gain just that almost inappre-
ciable fraction of time that will put the runner out

The "tied to the bag'' fault is apparent sometimes
in the player who seems unable to take a high ball
His trouble is usually found to lie in the fact that,
while he does reach up after the ball, he feels that his
foot must not leave the bag. If the ball be going too
high to be reached in that way, he must jump for it.
A good illustration of how a first baseman should
take a high ball, is shown in an instantaneous photo-
graph of McBride, a well-known first baseman of Tale.
The player should jump so as to alight on the bag; for,
if in time, he will put out the man : but he must sacri-
fice everything to stopping the balL In touching the
runner with a ball thrown from the pitcher, the fij^t
baseman, likewise, should follow the instructions
given the third baseman. AH players, however, are
far more proficient — owing to greater practice — in
sliding back to first than to third. A first baseman
must therefore be even quicker in putting the ball on
the man.

THE BATTERY

More than the professional nine, the amateur nine
is dependent for its success upon the work of the bat-
U'xy. For this reason it is that so much time and
attention are devoted to the men composing the bat-

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 237

tery, throughout the season as well as in preliminary
training. The greatest cause of poor work by pitcher
and catcher at the outset may be said to be lame arm^.
A pitcher whose arm is lame will go on exhausting
himself, punishing the catcher, and breaking down the
nerve of his nine from inning to inning, until the game
is irretrievably lost. A catcher with a lame arm soon
betrays his inability to throw to the bases ; and the op-
ponents steal second and then third, until his own nine
feel that if a runner reaches first he has merely to trot
around to third. Demoralization always follows, and
the nine " goes to pieces."

The first problem to be studied, then, is how to
avoid a lame arm ; and the second, how to cure it if the
misfortune comes. A lame arm is usually acquired
early in the season ; for, when the muscles are thor-
oughly trained and kept in good condition, lameness
seldom results from any cause except some foolish
overwork (such, for instance, as pitching several hard
games a week for two or three weeks). This overwork
is not the temptation to an amateur player that it is
to the professional ; but occasionally a combination of
circumstances makes an unusual demand upon an am-
ateur, and he is then even more likely than the profes-
sional to forget that his arm is not a machine. On this
account it is well to state that two games a week
should be the limit for the amateur pitcher. In fact,
even that allowance, continued steadily, is very likely
to weaken his pitching.

The preparatory training for the pitcher should be
even more gradual than that for the other players. He
should begin in the winter to take up all the exercises

238 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

suggested for increasing the suppleness and strength
of the muscles of the arm and shoulder, particularly
the latter. He should use the light dumb-bells, going
through as great a variety of motions as the most
thorough system provides. He should vary the bells
by exercises with the Indian clubs. After a week of
this, he ought to do some rope-climbing and swinging
on the flying-rings, if he enjoys the advantages of a
well-equipped gymnasium. Every day he should throw
a little, both overhand and underhand, but without
attempting anything like speed ; and he should avoid
curves until he has had two weeks or more of this
general exercise.

He may then begin upon the curves with a degree of
safety — taking preferably the in-curves first, for a day
or two, and later the out-curves. If a comrade can go
through the work with him, nothing could be better,
for they may be mutually useful, not only in keeping
up the interest, but also by acting as massage operators
upon each other. The arm and shoulder should be
thoroughly rubbed and kneaded every day, and if
there be any suspicion of lameness a little alcohol or
cider-brandy may be rubbed in. The pitcher should
not be called upon to pitch for any cage-batting except
at his own desire, and even then he should not be
allowed to do very much of it.

Having made a good beginning, and having with no
apparent difficulty reached a point where he can get
his curves and speed without any feeling of exhaustion
or heaviness in the arm or shoulder, the next point of
danger comes with the first outdoor practice. For this
reason, it is an excellent plan for the pitcher to go into

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 239

the open air for a little preliminary work some days
before the rest of the nine are put into the field. In
doing this he must remember that he should be almost
as careful again as he was while getting broken in for
the winter work. He should do no hard pitching for
several days, and should have his arm and shoulder
well rubbed with alcohol after his exercise. He should
always wear a flannel sleeve covering the arm and
shoulder. Until the weather is warm and settled, the
pitcher should avoid hard pitching, or he will bitterly
repent it. To cure a lame arm is a difficult task, but
of course the treatment will vary with the nature and
extent of the injury. Recovery is a question of rest
and the encouragement of union by means of electri-
city, friction, or other gentle stimulus to the circula-
tion through the part. As a rule, it is wise to seek at
once a physician or surgeon.

Before entering upon a description of the work of
the experienced pitcher after he is once started for the
season, it is only fair to tell some of the younger
aspirants for pitcher's honors something of the meth-
ods of acquiring the various curves and "shoots."
There have been almost numberless articles written
describing the theory of curving a ball. These are
more interesting to theorists than to ball-players. * The
fact itself remains that a base-ball may be made to
describe more or less of a curve while traversing the
distance between the pitcher and the batsman; and
that curve is accomplished by imparting a certain
twist to the ball as it leaves the pitcher's hand. No
matter how thoroughly one might explain to a man
of no experience the way to balance upon a bicycle,

240 WALTEB CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

the first attempt would result invariably in the ma-
chine and rider losing that balance. So the would-be
pitcher must remember that no description will enable
him to curve the ball at his first attempts. In fact, it
is more discouraging than learning bicycle-riding, be-
cause there one feels at the very first trial the near
possibility of success ; whereas it is many a day be-
fore the novice can impart even a very slight curve to
the base-ball. Perseverance will surely be rewarded
eventually, however, in this as in any other practice.
The easiest curve, and the one to be acquired first, is
the out-curve. The simplest method is to take the ball
in the hand between the extended thumb and the first
and second fingers, the third and little finger being
closed. The ball rests against the middle joint of the
third finger, but is firmly clasped by the first two and
the thumb. If the arm be then extended horizontally
from the shoulder, with the palm of the hand up, it will
be seen that if the ball were spun like a top by the two
fingers and thumb it would turn in the way indicated
by the arrow in the diagram. This is the way it must
twist to accomplish the out-curve. If this idea be
borne in mind, and the ball be thus thrown, the
thrower will immediately discover that the simpler
wray to impart this twist is not the spinning motion,
but rather a snap as the ball is leaving the fingers, per-
formed almost entirely without the aid of the thumb.
The sensation is that of throwing the ball hard, but
dragging it back with the ends and sides of the fingers
just as it leaves the hand. In practising to acquire
this curve, it is best to swing the arm not straight out,
but bent at the elbow, with the ball just a little higher
than the shoulder. When the curve is once acquired,

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 243

that with which it started — exists in the imagination
only, unless the ball be blown out of its course by the
wind. The effect of a strong wind upon the ball is
very marked, and when it is toward the pitcher and
against the ball, it aids materially in increasing the
tendency to curve. When with the ball, it renders the
curve less easy to produce and less marked. A left-
handed pitcher is able to make much more of what to
a right-handed batsman is an in-curve, for to such a
pitcher it is the easiest one to produce ; while its oppo-
site, or the out-curve to a right-handed batsman, is
correspondingly weak. ^y

The training of the catcher has in it less variety,
and is in consequence far more tedious than that of the
pitcher. The work of strengthening the muscles of
the shoulder and arm is the same as that described for
the pitcher ; but in the throwing practice the catcher
should devote his attention to the short-arm throw.
He should begin at the short distance of perhaps fifty
feet, and increase that distance very gradually. In
fact, he ought, even when he can readily throw the full
distance from home to second with comparative ease,
to do most of his throwing at two thirds that distance.
After the nine have begun to work in the field, it is not
advisable for the catcher to throw to second anything
like the number of times the majority of amateurs
attempt daily. Only after the nine have been out of
doors for two or three weeks is so much of the full-dis-
tance throwing safe for any catcher who wishes to
have his arm in good condition.

The position of the feet in throwing is all-important.
If he be a strong man of moderate weight, he can, and

244 WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE 8P0BTS

should, throw without changing the position of his
feet. To this object his gymnasium practice should be
devoted. Standing steadily upon his feet in the exact
position assumed at the moment of catching the ball,
he should with a slight swing at the hips be able to
send the ball down. Throwing in a cage with a low
ceiling is the best thing possible for him, as it forces
him to throw hard and on a line. A point of catcher's
practice which does not enter into the work
pitcher is that of toughening the hands. Bowing on the
machines, climbing the rope, swinging on the flying-
rings, and hand-ball, if there be any court for that ex-
cellent game, will all tend toward this end. He should
consider, however, that it is not merely toughening the
sMn of the hands that is desirable, but also hardening
the flesh so that it is not easily bruised. For this rea-
son he should "pass balP without gloves regularly
every day. At the outset he should receive no swift
balls, and should stop at the first feeling of anything
beyond a moderate tingling of the palms. His hands
should receive their full preparatory hardening before
he goes out into the field, for ordinary carefulness de-
mands that he should do no catching behind the bat
after the season commences except with hands thor-
oughly protected by well-padded gloves. What is com-
monly called a " stone bruise " is one of the tenderest
and most lasting mementos of carelessness in this re-
spect. In his gymnasium practice he should wear the
mask. This seems to most catchers a useless bore;
but the captain or coach should insist upon it, and the
mask should become almost a part of the catcher him-
self. All his throwing and passing should be performed

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB 246

with his eyes behind its wires, in order that, from be-
coming thoroughly accustomed to it, it may add no
inconvenience to his work. The breastplate need not
be so rigorously insisted upon, but even this should be
worn frequently. The right-hand glove must always
be worn when practising throwing, in order that this
also shall offer no unusual difficulty in the later
work. Many a catcher may think that it looks silly to
up with a mask and glove on to throw at a
mark ; but he will appreciate the value of such prac-
tice when he stands accoutred on the field behind the
batsman and with a runner on first.

As often as it is convenient, the catcher, particularly
if a novice, should have some one swing the bat before
him while he is "passing ball'' in the gymnasium.
By the time he gets out of doors, he should be thor-
oughly accustomed to the close proximity of the bats-
man and the swing of the bat, so that it does not
disconcert him in the least or affect his holding the
ball. It is no very difficult achievement for a novice
to prepare for this part of the catcher's duties. He
should begin by having a comrade swing the bat quite
far from the actual course of the ball, say a foot above
or below it, while the pitcher tosses the ball at slow
speed. After several days more, the pitcher should
slightly accelerate his delivery, and the batsman swing
the bat within four or five inches of the ball. After a
few days of this latter practice, the novice will find
that he does not fiinch at all, and from that time on
all that he needs is daily practice behind the bat to
become perfectly at home so far as catching the ball is
concerned.

246 WALTEB CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

When the battery have left the gymnasium and are
fairly settled down to regular field practice, they re-
quire the strictest supervision to prevent them from
doing foolish things. For instance, all the nine have
the strongest fancy for batting the delivery of the
regular pitcher. They like the practice, and know
that it is good for their batting. The pitcher, like-
wise, is prone to a vanity that urges him on to ex-
treme effort when pitching to members of his own
nine; and while such effort to a moderate degree is
an excellent thing for him, it will be found that, left
to himself, he will very likely enter into a duel with
the batsman and pitch himself into exhaustion or a
lame arm before the batsman will tire of the sport. He
therefore should be permitted to pitch to one or, per-
haps, two batsmen daily, just enough to give him a
little interest; while the rest of his pitching practice
should be very limited, and should have no element in
it that would tempt him to pitch a single ball after his
arm is tired. When the season is at its height, the
games themselves will give him enough to do without
any pitching to his own men — unless he may occa-
sionally desire to try the effect of some new delivery
upon the batsman. In that case he should be free to
select his own victims as he may require them. The
pitcher should also practice throwing to bases, paying
particular attention to holding a runner close upon
first base. He should aim to acquire such precision
in this as habitually to throw four out of five balls
successively in practically the same spot — namely, at
about the height of the baseman's knee and just a
littler toward second. The same relative place is a good

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 247

one for throwing to the other bases, for the purpose to
be borne in mind is not to throw at the base, but to
cut off the runner.

The catcher needs little watching, but the captain or
coach must never allow him to stand before any swift
pitching if his hands are sore. Sometimes a plucky-
fellow will not care to tell everybody that his hands are
sore, and it therefore must be the captain's business to
know all about this. The pitcher should tell the cap-
tain; for it is the pitcher who will notice the unavoid-
able wince that is the proof of a catcher's sore hand.
The catcher should do a moderate amount of throwing
to all the bases every day, and he ought also to prac-
tise receiving the ball from both in-fielders and out-
fielders at the home plate, in order that he may be
able to put the ball on a runner coming in from third.
For general work, it is not a bad plan to have both
catcher and pitcher bat to the in-fielders, as it gives
them relaxation as well as exercise good for all-around
development.

Their work with one another is of the most vital
interest to the success of the nine, for in it lies the
best part of the strength of the battery. If two men
do not get on well together, it is an almost hopeless
task to make of them a successful battery. In the
matter of signals, as almost every one nowadays un-
derstands, they must be thoroughly accustomed to
each other. These signals indicate what kind of ball
is to be pitched, and sometimes the catcher gives them,
sometimes the pitcher. If the catcher be a good judge
of batsmen, and the pitcher be of a disposition inclin-
ing him to depend upon some one else, it is best that

2*8 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

the catcher give the signals. It is also less likely to
attract the attention of the coaches or batsmen, as the
catcher can better conceal a gesture. The pitcher may,
however, give them if it seems necessary. Signal sys-
tems of great ingenuity may be concocted, but as a
rule the simpler they are, without too great risk of
discovery, the better, as neither player should have
his mind distracted from his work any more than is
necessary by being obliged to think twice about a sig-
nal A movement of the thumb or a finger, as the
catcher stands with his hands on his knees prepara-
tory to receiving the ball, is the most conmion; and if
the catcher keep his hands on the inner sides of the
legs in giving this signal, it is diflB^cult for the coadh to
catch it. The height at which he holds his hands may
indicate the kind of delivery he wants ; a movement
of the head, the position of the feet — all may be made
useful in this way.

I remember one college catcher who gave the signals
for an out-curve or an in-curve in a peculiar manner,
and one which was never suspected by any one not in
the secret. The signal consisted in the relative posi-
tion to his eyes of a certain wire in the mask. If he
looked over this wire, he wanted an in-curve; if under
it, an out-curve. The change in the position of his
head was almost imperceptible, but it was unmistakable
to the pitcher who understood its significance. Ward
once told a very good story apropos of signaling. A
certain pitcher was giving the signals, and the man
who was catching was comparatively a stranger to his
delivery. It appears that the signals which the pitcher
was giving were a smile and a frown; and after a time

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER

249

the first basemaD, who had been in the habit of catch-
ing for the same pitcher, began to expostulate with the
new catcher for his wretched work.

"Why,'* replied the poor fellow, "the sun is in that

CATCHER BIONAUNO TO PITCHER BT BBLATIYB POSITION OF THE
MASK AND HIS EYES.

pitcher's eyes, and he squints his face up so that I
can't tell, for the life of me, whether he 's grinning or
scowling ! ^

It is customary for the one of the pair who is not
giving the signals to be perfectly free to shake his
head if he does not approve of any particular delivery
which has been signaled, and his comrade then gives
the sign for a different curve. In a strong battery the

250 WALTER camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

man who is a good judge can in this way often be of
great assistance to the other.

In his pitching to batsmen, the pitcher should bear
in mind that it is by no means possible to strike out
all, or even a moderate proportion, of the men who
face him; whereas it is possible to prevent the ma-
jority from hitting the ball just where they wish. The
first principle to keep before him, then, is to make the
batsmen hit the ball either close up on the handle or
out at the end of the bat. In either case the hit will
probably be one which may be easily fielded so as to
result in putting out the batsman. By the judicious
use of the rise or drop, also, the pitcher may cause the
batsman to hit flies or grounders, according to the de-
livery. If his out-field be exceptionally good, it is
often good policy to make the batsman knock a fly.
Again, a weakness in the out-field accompanied by
unusual strength in the in-field may indicate that he
should endeavor to make the batsman keep the ball
on the ground. There are, correspondingly, occasions
when, with men on the bases and less than two out, a
pitcher can greatly relieve the feelings of his nine by
striking out one or two men ; and it is upon such an
occasion that he should make an especial effort to ac-
complish this. All these things he should consider in
practice as well as in games, and train himself accord-
ingly. He should also think of his catcher ; and, in a
game, remember that he is giving the man behind the
bat a deal more work to do if he continually labors to
strike out the men than if he judiciously controls their
hitting so that the rest of the nine share in the labor.
When there is a man on first who is known to be a

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

251

252 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

good and daring base-stealer, it is also good policy to
refrain from pitching the ball in such a manner as to
give the catcher a poor opportunity for his throw, as,
for instance, sending an in-shoot very close to the bats-
man, or a slow out-curve, which will give the runner a
long lead on the ball It is the pitcher's business to
keep the base-runner as close to the base as possible,
and to have his delivery of the ball to the batsman
accompanied by as little preliminary step and swing as
is consistent with good work, because in that way the
runner cannot get very far toward second before the
catcher receives the ball. The best of catchers can-
not throw out even a moderately fast runner unless
the pitcher assists in this way.

The catcher, on his part, must return the kindnesses
of the pitcher by like consideration. He must begin
by a resolution to try for everything, and to consider
no ball beyond his reach, no matter how wild. If he
cannot catch it, he may by an effort at least stop it; and
nothing is so encouraging to the pitcher as to see that
his catcher will try for even the wildest pitch. It is
the fashion of some amateur catchers, if there has been
a mistake in the signal, or a wild pitch, to stand a mo-
ment to cast a reproachful look at the pitcher before
starting after the ball. This is, of course, absurd. It
never does any good ; it usually disgusts the pitcher
and the rest of the nine, and allows the runner to take
two bases instead of one. No matter what has hap-
pened, it is the catcher's business to get the ball as
quickly as possible, and make any necessary explana-
tion later. The catcher should also be very willing in
the matter of trying for foul flies. It makes glad the

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

253

heart of the pitcher to see a batsman go out on a foul
fly, and the catcher should be mindful of this.

One very difficult ball for most catchers to handle is
a high, swift rise which passes the batsman's face; and
as it is, in the hands of a pitcher who uses it well, a

CATCHEB RUNinirO FOB A **FOI7L FLY.*'

very eflfective ball, the catcher should devote plenty of
practice to it, until he is absolutely sure of holding it.
It will sometimes go a little higher than the pitcher in-
tends, and, unless the catcher gives him good support,
the pitcher becomes afraid to use it, and thus loses a
strong feature of his delivery.

The catcher, even though he be an excellent thrower,
should not fall into the error of throwing too fre-
quently to first and third. An occasional throw, when
there is a chance of catching a too venturesome run-

254 WALTER CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

ner, is good policy; but simply to return the ball to the
pitcher by way of first or third is inviting the accident
of a misplay which will give a runner a base and per-
haps a run. Throwing to second has been dwelt upon
already at considerable length ; but one thing may be
added, and that is, that a catcher will find it produc-
tive of the greatest improvement to his work in this
respect if he will make a point of catching every ball,
no matter whether there be a runner on first or not,
exactly as if he must throw it to second. He will be
astonished at the marked increase in quickness that
comes from making this a habit. One word more for
the catcher, and that in regard to returning the ball to
the pitcher. Bearing in mind that the pitcher has a
long task before him, the catcher should return the
ball to him as accurately as possible; never falling into
the slipshod habit of sending it back carelessly, so that
the poor pitcher is kept dancing hither and yon to
catch these returns. The ball should be so returned by
the catcher as to go on a clean first bound almost into
his very hands.

OUT-FIELDERS

The importance of a strong out-field can hardly be
overestimated. Nine out of every ten close games are
won by the ability of the out-fielders to cover ground.
When a grounder is batted to an in-fielder and he
makes an en'or, it usually results that all runners who
are on the bases advance each one base. But when
there are men on first, second, and third, and a bats-

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYEB 255

man drives a hard-line hit which the right-fielder mis-
judges and allows to go over his head, it results in
three runs, and is likely to decide the game. No
amount of time and labor should be grudged, there-
fore, in making these men strong and capable, for the
outlay will be returned with interest in every close
game the nine may play.

The out-fielders can be instructed generally as to the
principles of their positions, but individual coaching is
the only thing that will make them keep up to the
mark. In the first place, all fielders are likely to fall
into the habit of starting slowly, not moving until they
see where the ball is coming, or they may become
careless in their way of handling the ball. For this
reason each man should receive some systematic
coaching every day.

The left-fielder should work in harmony with the
short-stop in the matter of taking the short flies.
These two players should arrange beforehand which
shall take the ball, although the fielder should take it
if possible. There are two reasons for this : First, be-
cause the fielder is sure to be facing the diamond.
While the short-stop may be running with the ball,
and hence turned away from the in-field. Second, be-
cause the fielder should, from continual practice, be
better able to handle quickly and return speedily ordi-
nary flies.

The throwing of a left-fielder, beyond the ordinary
return of the ball to the pitcher by way of short-stop
or second base, is usually to third or home. He is sel-
dom required to throw to first ; as, in case of a fly to
left when a runner is on first, there is usually ample

256 WALTEB CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE 8POBT8

time for this runner to return to his base, after the fly
is caught, before the ball could reach that base. His
throwing practice should therefore be directed toward
third and home — principally to the latter. He should
keep the ball down, sending it in as nearly as possible
on a line and just a little to the third-base side of
home. This last requirement, while it may seem to be
asking too much of the fielder, is a vital one. If the
ball come at all on the other side of the plate, there is
little chance of its catching the runner, and for this
reason the fielder should be persistently trained to
throw a trifle to the catcher's left. He must be contin-
ually cautioned not to make a high throw ; but if he
cannot put the ball directly into the catcher's hands on
the fly, he must at least send it so that it reaches the
catcher on the first bound. It is remarkable how little
the progress of a low-thrown ball is delayed by its once
touching the ground; and it is also noticeable how
convenient it is for a catcher to handle a ball taken
on the bound in putting it on a runner. When a
left-handed man is at the bat, unless he have some
well-known peculiarity of batting into left field, the
left-fielder will do well to come in a little nearer.

The center-fielder occasionally has to be on the same
terms with the second baseman, in regard to taking a
fly, as those existing between the short-stop and the
left-fielder; and about the same rules should govern
the two players as those laid down for the short-stop
and the left-fielder. His throwing, also, should be di-
rected to third and home, but he will have an occa-
sional opportunity of fielding to first after a fly catch.
In case he has to throw to first, the pitcher should

BA8£-BAIiL — FOB THE PLATEB

257

GATCHBB THROWINO DOWN TO SECOND.

258 WALTEB OAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

back up the first baseman, remembering that there is
no short-stop on that side of the field to perform this
duty. The center-fielder should always back up second
quite closely, when the catcher throws down to that
base, in order to prevent the runner from going on to
third. All the fielders, after catching a fly, should
exercise judgment about throwing home in order to
cut oflE a runner, whenever there are other runners on
the bases.

An excellent illustration of this feature of out-field
play occurred during a match between the Yale nine
and the Brooklyns, in a game played in the city of
Brooklyn. It was the ninth inning, and the Yale nine
were one run ahead. The Brooklyns were at the bat,
with one man out, a man on second, and a man on
third. The batsman knocked a fly to left. The ball
was falling near the left-fielder. The man on third,
knowing that if he made his run it would tie the score,
stood on third ready to try for the plate whether the
ball was dropped or caught. The man on second, feel-
ing that his nin would be needed to win, was naturally
anxious to lead well off toward short, so that if the ball
were dropped he could surely get in. He counted, of
course, upon the fielder's attempting, if he caught the
ball, to intercept the man who was running from third.
The play happened exactly as this latter runner ex-
pected. The Yale left-fielder caught the ball and
drove it home ; but the runner beat it in, and the man
on second had time to touch his base after the catch
and still reach third. This tied the score, and Brook-
lyn eventually won. Had the left-fielder recognized
his opportunity, he might easily have saved the game
by fielding to second instead of home. The man start-

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYEB 259

ing from second would then have been the third man
out ; and he would have been put out while the runner
from thii'd was still several feet from the home-plate,
so that no run would have been scored.

The right-fielder has, in addition to his throw to the
plate, a throw to first. This latter is worth practising
faithfully, as, if successful, it cuts off what would
otherwise be a safe hit. The selection, however, of a
man for this position on the strength of his throwing
alone, and his ability to execute that one play, cannot
be too strongly condemned. A man, to perform it suc-
cessfully, should run up to meet the ball, and, after
catching it, should throw it without appreciably
slackening speed.

I have seen the professional player Kelly make this
play as it should be made. It was in a game between
the New Yorks and Chicagos, when he was a member
of the latter nine. He had been catching, but having
hurt a finger was replaced by Flint, and went out into
right field. There were two men out and a man on
third when one of the New Yorks sent a sharp hit past
Anson on first base. The ball was whizzing along at
a sharp pace ; and Kelly, with his hair fiying, came
running in on it as if he were running for the plate.
A scoop of his hands and a sharp drive of his arm, and
the ball shot into Anson's hands a fraction of a second
ahead of the runner, and the side was out.

BATTING AND BASE-RUNNING

In turning to the other, the aggressive side of the
game, the batting, one finds even a greater necessity

200 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

for education and experience than in the fielding. The
majority of boys and men become fairly proficient in
fielding long before they have acquired the ability to
judge and to bat hard pitching. Occasionally a man
will be found who, having a naturally good eye, will
manage to use the bat fairly well as soon as he takes
it up; but usually even such a man is entirely at the
mercy of a skilled pitcher, and it is quite unusual to
find among boys who have played for years more than
a few good hitters. If, then, a boy will pay attention to
the principles and try his best, he will, with practice,
make himself more valuable to a nine than any of his
comrades; for batting is more than half the game,
although many amateur captains are led by the re-
markably clever fielding of some players to forget this
fact when making up their nines. A true eye, ability
to concentrate the muscular force instantly, and plenty
of courage, are the requisites for a good hitter. The
batsman must endeavor to swing the bat as nearly on
a line as possible, and must not "chop'' at the ball.
This proper swing he can readily acquire in his indoor
practice. He should assume an easy position, slightly
facing the pitcher, most of his weight resting upon the
foot nearest the catcher. Just as the ball is delivered
he should advance the foot nearest the pitcher, and, if
the ball prove a good one, swing the weight of his body
into the stroke as he meets the ball with his bat. He
should not strike with all his might and main, as if he
were intending to make nothing except a home-run,
for these violent batsmen are not usually successful
hitters. Ijt does not require the greatest expenditiire
of muscular force to make a long hit, but the proper

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

261

meeting of the ball and the putting the weight of the
shoulders into the stroke. The bat should be firmly
gi*a8ped and the arms well straightened and free from

the sides when the ball is hit. The weight of the body-
should be coming forward, and the trunk should be
slightly turning upon the hips. Early in the season
it is best to strive to meet the ball squarely, rather
than to hit out hard, for this method improves the eye
and judgment far more rapidly than indiscriminate
hard hitting. After a good eye has been acquired, the
batsman may throw more force into his batting with a

262 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

certainty of meeting the ball fairly. "Sacrifice^ hit-
ting and "placing" the ball are usually mere matters
of luck to the average amateur; but a little attention
to the principles of batting will enable any batsman to
acquire some measure of control over the direction of
his hitting. A diagram wiQ illustrate the principles
quite clearly. If the ball be met in front of the base,
and the forward foot be drawn away slightly, the ten-
dency of the ball will be to go on the same side of the
diamond as that upon which the batsman stands; while
if the ball be met behind the base, and the forward foot
placed a little nearer the base, the tendency of the ball
will be to go toward the opposite side.

The ordinary batsman will do well not to sacrifice
his hitting to any false idea of placing all his hits; for
he should consider that when there are no men on
bases, unless he be a thoroughly experienced batsman,
he will do best to assume his most natural position, and
not be over-particular as to the exact point toward
which the ball goes. If a nine will but keep the ball
going by sharp hits, their opponents will be obliged to
"play ball" to prevent scoring; and that thought
should be continually in the mind of the batsman.

Base-running is hardly less important than batting;
for by it the batting is made to yield what really count
— namely, runs. Any one who follows the scores
closely sees many cases where a nine make fewer
base hits and more errors than their opponents, and
yet win the game. This may be due to " bunching the
hits," or to a lucky combination of hits and errors
but it is usually accompanied by good base-running.
Whenever a close game is played, superiority in base-

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

263

running is usually enough to determine the winner.
The necessity of quick starting has already been dwelt
upon, and is the underlying principle of success. Good
judgment comes next ; for when a man is on a base and

BABE-BUNNEB KEBPINO ON TO THIBD.

the ball is batted, he may take chances up to what
appears to be the very limit of recklessness, and yet
seldom make the mistake of being put out. He does
this through reliance upon his knowledge of what his
opponents can and will do at each moment.

A few instances will illustrate this. A runner is on
first base, and the batsman drives a gi'ounder between
first and second. The average amateur will run to
second, and turn to see whether the right-fielder has

264 WALTER CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

the ball; and if the fielder has stopped the ball the
runner will not go further. If, however, the runner
has thoroughly thought out this particular combina-
tion, he will be ready to take a more daring view of
the play, and, instead of stopping at second, he will go
straight on for third. This is not nearly so reckless
as it appears, provided the runner be fast, and also
provided that he has made up his mind at the start
exactly what he will do. It is not an easy throw from
right field to third, and the right-fielder, if he be play-
ing at all close in, is very likely to be thinking of
throwing the runner out at first ; and he will therefore
lose track entirely of the other runner. Another ex-
cellent feature of the attempt is that if the right-fielder
make a wild throw, as he often does in his surprise^
there is a sti'ong probability of the runner's going on
to the home-plate. Thus, what was only an oppor-
tunity to take second may be quite easily turned into
a run. The majority of amateurs are thoroughly
familiar with the advisability of coming home from
second on a base-hit, but when the hit is made very
few of them are really in the best position to take ad-
vantage of it. The runner should not try to take too
great a lead before the pitcher lets the ball go, but
should move well up as the ball is delivered, so that if
the hit be made he may have a flying start. He should
not be just in the base-line, but slightly back of it, so
that he may not have quite so sharp a turn to make in
going by third. There are, of course, innumerable
combinations that may arise, any one of which lends
some new element for the consideration of the base-
runner, but there are a few facts which are worth

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB 265

remembering. One of these is, that a fielder who has
made an error by dropping or fumbling a ball is very
prone to make another error in his throw if the base-
runner take a daring chance. Yet another point is,
never to assist a fielder by letting him touch the run-
ner with the ball when the fielder is seeking to make
a double play. This is most likely to happen when a
man is on first and another on second, and the ball is
batt^ between third and short, but so that either of
those fielders stops it. A third point for the consider-
ation of the runner is, always to force the fielders to
throw the ball when it can be done without sacrifice
on his part. This can be accomplished frequently, and
it always affords an opportunity for an error. The
same rule applies to tempting a pitcher to throw to
bases. To lead him to throw frequently will probably
make his pitching irregular, and this favors the bats-
man and troubles the catcher.

One of the most delicate points of base-running is
taking advantage of fly catches. Naturally, every one
is thoroughly familiar with the act of running home
from third on a long fly caught by an out-flelder, for
this is the simplest case; but the taking a base on a fly
catch when the apparent odds are not so strongly on
the side of the runner requires good judgment and a
cool head. For instance, there is a runner on second
and a high foul fly is batted over first base almost into
the crowd of spectators. The first baseman is running
for the ball and away from the plate, so that his back is
turned toward third. The clever runner on second
stands with his toe just touching the bag, and the in-
stant the first baseman catches the ball he is away like

266

WALTEB camp's BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

a shot for third. The first baseman, whose mind has
been thoroughly occupied in catching the ball and not
falling in the crowd, is startled by the cry, " Look out
for third I** and he turns hastily and throws; but the

8HUTTINO OFF A KUNITEB AT THE HOME-PLATE.

distance is a long one, his position poor for throwing,
and the runner's lead enables him to make the base
before the ball reaches the third baseman.

There are many emergencies in base-running which
call for attempts when desperate chances must be
taken. But every runner should always have the pos-
sibilities of the situation in his mind at all times; then,
if it seem wise at the critical moment to take the
chance, he will be prepared to make the most of it.

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 267

To sum up, the duty of the player, as soon as he be-
comes a base-runner, is to be one bundle of activity,
actuated by the keenest desire to take advantage of
any misjudgment or weakness of his adversaries.

REMINISCENCES

When old college ball-players get together, they are
always glad to recall the exciting game or games of
their college course; and I have noticed that as a rule
the players of the present day are by no means disin-
clined to listen to the tales. Sometimes, I confess, the
younger players seem rather skeptical of certain inci-
dents narrated by the veterans; and I must admit that
the magnifying mist of a few years' distance may per-
haps lead the older players into exaggeration. How-
ever, I shall conclude this series with a few of these
stories. I wish to play over again, " for fun,'' a few
incidents from games upon which once seemed to hang
my stake of happiness for the time. If I exaggerate,
I hope the boys will forgive me and remember that
they, too, may some time need a little leeway in telling
how they won or lost.

Of all games in which I have played, the most re-
markable for a sudden revulsion of feeling was one
between Harvard and Yale, played upon Jarvis Field,
in June of 1882. It was in the days of the Intercolle-
giate Association, and Yale had already lost a game
to Brown and one to Harvard, so that it was the gen-
eral impression that Yale would lose this game and
be practically out of the race for the championship.

268 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

About seven thousand people were gathered about the
field, and they seemed an unbroken mass of crimson.
Just a few stray bits of blue showed where an occa-
sional Yale sympathizer sat. Yale went first to the bat,
but failed to score. Harvard followed suit. In the
second inning, a muff by the Harvard first baseman,
followed by the Yale catcher's making a " two-bagger,"
gave Yale a run. Our happiness was short-lived,
however, for in the third inning Harvard made two
runs, followed by another in the fifth. Yale scored
one in the seventh, but Harvard matched it with one
in the eighth, so that we began the ninth with Harvard
four to Yale's two. I think we had not the least hope
of winning.

I remember feeling, as we came in for the ninth
inning, that this defeat would settle our chances of the
championship, and thinking how the crowd of boys who,
as I knew, were sitting on the Yale fence awaiting the
news, would hear it and dwindle away in silence to
their rooms. Our first man at the bat in the ninth
inning went out quickly, and our catcher followed
with the same result. Wilcox, the last man on our
batting list, came to the bat. Two men out, two runs
to reach even a tie, and three to win ! I noticed that
the crowd was leaving the field, and that the young
rascal who had charge of our bats was putting them
into the bag.

" Here, you ! stop that ! " cried I, for we all were
superstitious about packing up the bats before the last
man was out. Besides, I was the next batter, if Wil-
cox should by any chance reach his base, and I wanted
my bat. " Two strikes," I heard the umpire call, and

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER

269

M I Ll

270 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

then at the next ball, to my great joy, *' Take your
base," and Wilcox trotted away to first. I remember
thinking how much I would give for a home-run, and
then there came a good ball just off my shoulder, and I
hit it with all my power. It went between third and
short-stop on a swift drive, but bounded high, as I
af tei-ward learned, for I was meanwhile running at my
best speed toward first. When I was fifteen feet from
that base, I saw the baseman give a tremendous jump
up into the air, and I knew somebody had made an
overthrow. How I ran then ! — for every base I passed
I knew was one nearer to tying the score. As I came
dashing past third base, I saw Wilcox just ahead of
me, and we crossed the home-plate within three feet of
each other. Our next batter took his base on poor
pitching, and stole second; the next followed with a
base-hit past second, which brought the first runner
home with the winning run. We then went into the
field, put three Harvard men out, and won the game :
when probably half the seven thousand spectators
were already on their way home with a victory for
Harvard in their minds.

I remember a singular case of an undecided match
which was played at New Haven in 1881, between the
New Yorks and the Yale nine. Brouthers, who has
since become so remarkable a batsman, was on the
New Yorks at that time. The case in dispute occurred
in the sixth inning, but owing to the indecision of the
umpire no settlement was reached, although the nine
innings were played, leaving the score a tie, according
to Yale's claim, or a victory by one run for the profes-
sionals, if their claim was allowed. Yale was at the

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB

271

272 WALTEB CABiP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

bat with two men out, and Gardner — a Yale man —
was running to second when the ball was pitched.
Walden, our striker, sent a base-hit, upon which he
tried to take second. The fielder, instead of throwing
home, as he had at first intended, seeing Gardner well
along between third and home, fielded the ball to sec-
ond. The umpire, as soon as he saw the fielder change
the direction of his throw, forgetting the necessity of
noting the time when Gardner crossed the plate, ran
down into the diamond to obtain a nearer view of the
play at second. Walden was put out, but so far as
human eye could judge exactly at the moment when
Gardner crossed the plate. The umpire did not see
Gardner at all, and was therefore wholly unable to say
whether the run counted or not. At the end of the
ninth inning the New Yorks refused to play further,
claiming the game. It was some slight satisfaction to
the college nine that just a week later they met the
New Yorks again and defeated them by a score of
ten to four.

One of the most exciting contests in which I ever
took part was a game with the Providence League nine
in 1881. Yale had had a remarkably strong nine the
previous year, and many of the players had remained
in college, so that our nine was really a veteran organ-
ization. We, as well as the college in general, had
been looking forward to this game with more than
usual interest, as the Providence nine had some old
scores to settle with us. Yale lost the toss and we
went to the bat. The first two men were put out
easily, but Walden came to the rescue with a three-
base hit. Allen, our next batsman, drove a swift ball

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 273

to short-stop, which gave him a base-hit, and Walden
scored. Allen started for second on the first ball pitched,
which the batsman hit safely, and Allen scored. Our
next man went out at first, leaving Gardner on second,
but Yale with two runs for a beginning. We took
the field, and easily retired the first two men on the
Prpvidence list. Then Farrell came to the bat and
knocked a two-base hit. Ward stepped up to the plate
and broke our hearts by sending the ball out into the
track for a clean home-run, FaiTell of course scoring.
The next man went out to first, and we came in to the
bat with the score tied. Our first batter sent a high fly
into the field, but luckily it was not caught. The bat-
ter then attempted to steal second, but was put out.
The next striker reached first base safely, but was forced
out at second by his successor's ground hit. With a
man on first and two out, we had but little hope of
scoring; but Hutchison, our batsman, made a safe hit,
upon which the runner managed to take third. Hutch-
ison went to second on the first ball pitched, and
Lamb brought them both home by a double. The
third man went out on a fly, but Yale was jubUant
with the score four to two.

Providence failed to score in her half. The third
inning went by without a run ; but in the fourth each
side scored one, thus keeping Yale still in the lead, five
to three. In the fifth inning neither side crossed the
plate, although Providence had two men on the bases
who were retired by a double play. The sixth inning
went by, the excitement growing more and more in-
tense, and both sides playing a perfect game. In the
seventh Providence again had men on bases, but

274 WALTEB GAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SP0BT8

another double play swept them off. The eighth in-
ning was another blank, and Yale came to the bat in
the first half of the ninth, with the score five to three
in her favor. Two runs seemed like a safe lead, but we
were anxious to increase it. One man out, two men
out, and Badger came to the plate. Two balls were
pitched, and then he hit a beauty into left center for a
home-run I How the crowd cheered ! The next man
went out easily, but six to three was surely safe.

Providence came in, and I well remember that Joe
Start and Johnny Ward looked anything but pleased
at the prospect. After one man went out they seemed
to find the ball, and Gross, Matthews, and Denny each
made a hit which, with clever base-running, brought in
two runs. Denny stole third by a desperate slide, hav-
ing gone to second on a throw home which failed to
catch Matthews. One man out, a man on third, one
run to tie the score ! — the Yale audience hardly dared
breathe as McClellan came to the bat. He hit a sharp
grounder to Hopkins, who was playing first base for
Yale, and Denny came down the line for home as if
his life depended upon that run. Hopkins took the
ball cleanly, and drove it into the plate just as Denny,
in a cloud of dust, threw himself across it ! " Safe ! ^
said the imipire, and the score was tied. McClellan
had gone straight on to second, and, as old Joe Start
took his place at the plate, I know more than one of
us felt that the victory we had counted on was gone.
McClellan took all the lead he dared, on every ball, for
he meant to come home on a hit. The third ball
pitched suited Start, and he hit it squarely along the
ground, but straight at Hutchison, who was our short-

BASE-BALL — FOB THE PLAYEB 276

stop, McClellan was within three feet of third when
Hutchison got the ball and sent it over to Hopkins,
putting out Start. Meanwhile McClellan was taking
his run home just as fast as he knew how. But Hop-
kins was too swift for McClellan: the catcher put him
out, and six to six was the score !

I don't know how it was with the spectators, but I
know that the nine Yale men in uniform were glad the
inning was over.

The tenth inning had no long-drawn-out suspense
about it. Lamb, who was first at the bat for Yale,
made a single. Walden, the next batsman, immedi-
ately followed with a three-base hit ; Gardner took first
on wild pitching; and the writer had the pleasure of
sending them both home by batting a single — being,
later, the third man out on a double play. Then the
Providence players went out one, two, three, and we
rode home with our heads in the air.

Perhaps you think that all the games I remember are
those in which Yale won. Naturally those are the ones
I like best to recall, but in the same year that we had
rejoiced over such a game won from Providence, we
visited Princeton and learned that some other boys
could play ball too. The game was not of particular
interest until the fourth inning, when Yale by a home-
run of Hutchison's had just left the score six to one in
her favor. Princeton came in to the bat and set about
overcoming this long lead. Their first man took first
base on balls, stole second on a passed ball, third on a
fielder's error, and came home as Schenck, a Prince-
ton batsman, drove the ball past short-stop. Then
Harlan, their next batsman, went out, short to first,

276 WALTEB CAMPUS BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOKTS

and his successor, Winton, struck out. Archer, who
came next, brought Schenck home with a hit, but the
following batter ended the inning by a fly. Score, six
to three in Yale's favor. There was no scoring in the
fifth and sixth innings, although Yale succeeded each
time in getting men on bases. In the seventh Yale
again began with a single, but failed to do anything
more, and Princeton came to the bat. Winton struck
three times, but the Yale catcher dropped the third ball
and then threw wild to first. Archer struck out. Win-
ton then came home on a wild pitch and a passed
ball, the Yale battery evidently going to pieces. The
next Princeton batter went to first on balls. Then
another was put out, and a Princeton player named
Wadleigh came to the bat. He was quite equal to the
occasion, and sent a fine three-base hit into left field,
bringing a run home. But the succeeding batsman
went out, and the eighth inning opened with the score
six to five in Yale's favor. The game was becoming
decidedly interesting. One, two, three, Princeton put
us out as we came to the plate. We returned the com-
pliment when they came to the bat, so far as two men
were concerned, but under these circumstances Prince-
ton proceeded to brace again. Harlan hit for three
bases, Winton followed with a single, on which Harlan
came in and tied the score. Archer followed with
another single, on which Winton took third and scored
what proved to be the winning run, while the next bat-
ter was striking out. We came to the bat for the ninth,
and after two men were out Piatt made a two-base hit
for Yale, and I succeeded him, with a chance to tie the
score by batting him in. I hit the ball hard, driving it,

BASE-BALL — FOR THE PLAYER 277

as we all thought, over the head of a Princeton fielder
named Loney; but by a magnificent jump he reached
and held it, and the game was over. Then a sad and
quiet little band of men stole away to the train and
left New Jersey.

When asked what play I recall as most singular in
my remembrance of college games, I tell the tale of a
game Yale oncje played with Brown University at
Providence. The field there was backed by a stone
church behind center, and an occasional very long hit
would strike it. In an open field such a hit would have
resulted in a home-run. Yale had, I believe, made
some objection to the ground on that account; but on
this particular occasion, as it proved, the church as-
sisted Yale very materially. The game was a common-
place one up to the ninth inning, Yale having scored
six runs and Brown none. When Brown came in to
complete the game, in the ninth, the crowd had ah'eady
become considerably diminished, and the few remain-
ing were standing about the edge of the field making
ready to go home. The first man at the bat made a hit,
the second followed with another. The third man went
out on a fly to the Yale pitcher. The next batsman
made a base-hit, which was so slowly handled in the
field that the first two men scored, the batter going on
to second on the throw home. The next man at the
plate hit a grounder to second, who attempted to throw
the runner out at third, but threw wild, and both men
scored, thus making the score: Yale, six; Brown, four.
The next batter took first base on balls. The Yale
pitcher struck out the following batter. The runner
who had taken his base had meantime stolen second.

278 WALTER GAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SP0BT8

A home-run now wonld tie the score, and the Brown
man at the bat evidently realized this, for he made
a long drive into center field. The Brown crowd yelled
madly with delight; bnt the ball struck the church and
bounded back to the fielder, who turned instantly and
fielded it home, putting out the man who was running
in from second by the veriest scratch I ever saw on the
ball-field.

I don't know that any man on the Yale nine ever
earned the heartfelt gratitude of its every member to
such an extent as did George Clark, our right-fielder
in a game at Cambridge in 1880. We had scored
two runs in the first inning, and Harvard had scored
one. From the end of that first inning both sides had
been struggling desperately to score, but without suc-
cess. Repeatedly men had been on the bases, and some
one or two had been thrown out at the home plate.
Harvard came to the bat for the ninth inning, and
their first batter went out by a throw from short-stop
to first base ; a second batsman followed with a base-
hit ; a third went to first base on an error, which gave
the runner second. The next man batted to third, thus
forcing out the runner at that base. The next bats-
man, whose name was Fessenden, came to the bat and
hit what certainly appeared to all of us and to the
spectators to be a home-run over the low rail fence on
the right-field side. Clark had started on the instant
the ball was batted, and, coming to the rail just as
the ball was passing over, he reached far out, and to
our supreme delight caught and held it, leaving
us winners.

HoHK Baas.

IBoS-ui-qonox

InGoaL
Goal-Une. Goal-line.

ivoif-ai-qonoj;,

( Goal. )

160 feet

■^no-i|3|S JO ;inin oun-PW^-SC

In Touch.
330 feet

In Touch.
830 feet

25-yard-llne Limit of Kick-out

■^OOJ09l

( IBoo )

r Bounds.

•9UTi-i«oo '9iin-I«oo

Touoh-in-goal.

TBOoai

Touoh-in-goal.

APPENDIX

'IvoS-ui-qonox

InGoaL

Goal-Une. Goal-Une.
( 18H feet)

1«o)f-a|-qanox

( Goal. )

160 feet

•^no-iiora JO iHuin onn-px»^-W

In Touch.
330 feet

2&-yard-line Limit of Kick-out.

•^»aj09l
( TBoo )

►<

{'%99t 9{8l)
•9iin-l«oo ouil-nioo

Touch-in-gonl.

•l«oo ai

Touoh-in-goal.

■^

APPENDIX

FOB REFERENCE IN CASES WHERE FORMS OF AORSEMSNT ARE RSQUIRBD,

THE FOLLOWING SETS OF CONSTITUTIONS AND

AOREEM ENT8 ARE APPENDED :

Bowing, — Original Harvard-Tale Boating Agreement.

Track Athletics, — Deed of Gift and Boles governing Harvard-Tale Track

Athletic Contests.
Contract, — Contract for Grounds, as used by Princeton and Tale when

hiring Manhattan Field.

ORIGINAL FORM OP BOATING AGREEMENT

(TALE-HARVARD EIGHT-OARED RACES)

All previous agreements entered into between the Harvard and
Yale Boat Clubs are hereby abrogated and annulled.

These rules shall stand until repealed by the consent of both boat-
clubs. B^ mutual agreement in writing, duly signed by the respec-
tive captains of the two universi^ crews, however, any one or more
of Rules VI, VII, Xn, XIVj XIX, XXIV may be temporarily sus-
pended or waived by and with the written consent ana approvid of
the referee.

Additional agreements concerning things for which provision has
not been made m these rules may be enteiid into in the same way as
under Rule II. Such additional agreements, however, shall be tem-
porary in their nature, and shall not last longer than is necessary to
fulfill the purpose or purposes which g^ve rise to them.

The race between Harvard and Yale shall be deemed an annual
event j but in case of the inabihty of either party to send a crew to
participate in such annual race, notice of such inability shall be sent
to the other party prior to the first day of December of that college
year ; and if such notice shall be sent, no race will occur in that
college year.

The referee shall be a graduate of some neutral college; and each
boat-dub shall name the referee on alternate years — Yale naming
him in 1886. The name of the person proposed as referee shall be
submitted by the proposing club to the other club at least one month
before the oay set for the race, and such nomination shall be acted
upon within one week after its receipt.

In case of objection to the person proposed, written notice of such

284 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

objection must be sent to the proposing club within one week from
time the nomination is receivea. Withm one week after the receipt
of such notice, the proposing club must submit another name (or
names) to the other club, which must be acted upon in the same
manner as before. In case no objection be sent within the time
specified above, the person whose name has been thus submitted
shall be deemed the cnoice of both clubs for referee.

In 1886 Yale shall have choice between the first Thursday and
Friday after the last Wednesday in June as the day set for the an-
nual race, after which the choice between the aforesaid days shall
rest alternately with Harvard and Yale.

The race in the years 1886-90 shall take place at New London,
Conn.

vni

The race shall be rowed on ebb tide, and shall be started within
two hours of high water at the starting-line.

There shall be a central line of buoys which shall be situated at
each half-mile point, and either boat may be disqualified if at any
point durine the race it shall be nearer than ten feet to, or more than
one hundred feet from, the central line of buoys.

The referee shall have absolute power in the interpretation of these
rules, and his decision shaU be £mal in all oases. Should any un-
foreseen difference of opinion arise, it shall be referred to the referee
for decision.

Both boats shall be at the starting-point at the time agreed upon.
If either boat cannot appear, the captain of such boat shall, before
said time, personally report to the referee, who shall at once proceed
to start the other boat, unless the delay has been caused by a bona
fide accident.

All races shall be started in the following manner: The referee
shall ask the question, " Are you ready t ^ and receiving no reply
after waiting not more than five nor less than three seconds, slum
give the word "Go" ; and if either boat starts before the word is
given by the referee, it shall be recalled and a new start made as soon
as possible. A start shall be unfair if during the first ten strokes
either of the competing boats shall be disabled by a bona fide accident.

APPENDIX 285

Xin

In any case an appeal must be made to the referee by the compe-
titors themselves, or by the judge, before the crew leaves its boat.

xrv

In case of a dead heat the race shall be declared a tie for that year ;
no flags shall be awarded, and neither collegfe shall claim the cham-
pionsMp for that year on any pretext whatever.

No boat shall be allowed to accompany a competing boat for the
purpose of directing its course, or affording any other assistance.

XVI

The championship flags shall be placed in the referee^s hands be-
fore the race, and shall be by him presented to the captain of ike
winning crew as soon as the race shall have been decided. These
flags smdl be provided by each college in turn — Yale to provide them
in 1886. Each college shall contribute one half their cost.

xvn

If he thinks proper, the referee may reserve his decision, provided
that in every case such decision be given on the day of the race.
Pending his decision, no one shall be admitted to the presence of the
referee except the judges and such witnesses as they and the referee
may summon.

xvm

The crews shall row in each successive vear on alternate courses.
In 1886 Yale shall have the east course and Harvard the west course,
provided the race be rowed at New London. If rowed elsewhere,
Yale is to have the choice of courses in 1886, after which the choice
shall alternate between the two colleges.

XIX

The starting-line shall be moved down from the present starting-
line the distance of sixty feet toward the flnish-line, and shall be at
ripht angles to Uie central line of buoys. Each boat shaU be provided
with a metal staff, or rod, eiprhteen inches high, carrying a nag, 9x5
inches, of the color of its university, such rod to be nxed perpendic-
ularly at the stem of shorter boat, and on longer boat at a distance
forward from center of said boat equal to one half the length of the
shorter boat. Each boat shall be started even by these flags so flxed
on the starting line, and shall be adjudgfed to have completed the
course when said flags shall have crossed the flnish-line.

Five days before the race a suitable referee's boat shall be pro-
vided — such boat to be provided in 1886 by Yale, and alternately
thereafter by Harvard and Yale.

286 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

XXI

Each miivergity shall name two jadges and one timekeeper — one
of these judges to be located at the finish ; the other, witii the time-
keeper, to accompany the referee. The appointment of the judges
and timekeepers shall be reported to the referee when made.

TXTT

The referee shall appoint as a third judge at the finish a graduate
of some neutral college, whose duty it shiul be to decide, in case of
disagreement between the other judges^ which boat, if either, first
crossed the line at the finish ; such decision to be final

Txiif

Each of the two jud^s at the finish shall be provided with a flag
of his college color, which he shall drop as a signal to the timekeepers
when the boat of his college crosses the finish-line.

XXIV

A boat shall be provided for the judges at the finish bv the club
which does not provide the referee^s lK>at. The boat shall be so
placed that the referee and timekeepers may easily see the fiiags when
they fall.

XXV

On the day of the race, the referee, accompanied by the judges,
shall ^ over the course and personally satisfy himsdi that every-
thing is in proper position.

XXVI

Any man shall be eligible to row in the university race who is duly
entered as a student in one of the recognized departments of the uni-
versity. The appearance of his name in the annual catalogue, or a
certificate of membership si^ed by the dean or other acting head of
the department in which he is a student, stating that he entered such
department prior to December 1st of the same collegre year, shall be
deemed conclusive evidence in favor of the eligibili^ of any candi-
date or member of the crew. Either boat-dub, by giving at least
one week^s notice before the day set for the race, may require such
evidence to be submitted to the referee on or berore the day set for
the race. Failure to comply with these requirements will authorize
the referee to deprive the person objected to of a seat in the boat on
the day of the race, if he snail deem such action advisable after a full
consideration of all the circumstances of the case.

Alfred Cowles, Jr.
Paul K. Ames,
George A. Adee,
g. s. mumford,
Lawrence E. Sexton.

DEED OP GIFT AND CONDITIONS

GOVERNING THE HABVARD-TALE CONTESTS FOB THE
UNIVERSITY TRACK ATHLETIC CUP

Deed of Gift

The graduates of Yale and Harvard Universities, representine the
donors whose names are hereto attached, hereby offer to the stuaeuts
of Harvard University and Yale University a cup to be known as
the University Track Athletic Cup, for the encouragement of track
athletics, and to foster a friendly rivalry between the students of the
two universities in track and field athletics.

A track athletic contest between the students of the two univer-
sities is to be held annually between May 1st and July 1st of each
year, provided this contract be renewed annually to the entire and
mutual satisfaction of the universities. This cup shall be competed
for as herein provided until one university shall have won five sep-
arate years, when it shall become the permanent property of that
university. M either or both universities shall withdraw before the
cup is permanently won, the cup shall be disposed of in such manner
as may be agreed upon by a majority of the graduates of the Univer-
sity Track Athletic Cup Committee.

The time and place for holding each contest, the number and na-
ture of the events, the points that are to count, the rules regulating
each contest and each event, the method of counting, the rules regu-
lating the eligibility of contestants, and all incidental matters, includ-
ing the construction of all rules, shall be determined, and may from
time to time be changed and amended by the representatives of tne two
universities herein named and their successors, as herein provided,
except as otherwise herein stated. Voting by proxy shall be per-
mitted. To make any change or amendment an affirmative vote of
at least five shall be necessary. As representing Harvard University,
the following persons are appointed, viz.: E. J. Wendell, of New
York ; George B. Morison, of Boston, Massachusetts: the captain,
from time to time, of the Harvard Track Athletic Team, and one
undergraduate, to be selected by the Executive Committee of the
Harvard Track Athletic Team prior to January 1st of each year.
An additional undergraduate, not a senior, to be selected by the
Executive Committee of the Harvard Athletic Association, shall be

267

288 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

allowed to attend the meetings of this committee and join in debate,
without power to vote. Vacancies shall be filled by the other repre-
sentatives of Harvard University. As representing Yale University,
the following persons are appointed, viz.: Walter Camp ; Henry
Stanford Brooks, Jr.; the captain, from time to time, of the Yale
Track Athletic Team, and one undergraduate to be selected by the
Executive Committee of the Yale Athletic Association prior to Janu-
ary 1st of each year. An additional undergraduate, not a senior,
to be selected by the Executive Committee of the Yale Athletic Asso-
ciation shall be allowed to attend the meetings of this committee and
join in debate, without power to vote. Vacancies shall be fiUed by
the other representatives of Yale University.

Dated March 16, 1891.
(Here follow signatures of Harvard and Yale graduate subscribers.)

CONSTITUTION AND RULES

The University Track Athletic Cup Committee, having met on
July 6th, 1899, adopted the following Constitution and Rules:

CansHtuHon

1. The annual contest shall be held on the afternoon two weeks
before the last Saturday in May.

2. Each university shall have the privilege of naming the palace of
contest in alternate years ; the privilege of naming the place in 1900
to be with Harvard.

1. Definition.— An amateur is a person who has never competed
in an open competition, or for mone^, or under a false name ; or
with a professional for a prize, or with a professional where gate-
money IS charged; nor has ^er at any time taught, pursued, or
assisted at athletic exercises for money, or any valuable considera-
tion ; or whose association with the university was not brought about
or does not continue because of any mutual understandinp^, express
or implied, whereby his association would be of an^ pecuniary value
to him whatever, direct or indirect. But nothing in this definition
shall be construed to prohibit the competition between amateurs for
medals,, cups, or other prizes than money. And it is hereby expressly
declared that this definition is not retroactive, and that all past acts
of amateurs shall be judged in accordance with the provisions of the
constitution of the I. C. A. A. A. A. adopted on the 25th day of
February, 1888. The above definition shall take effect on and after
April 4, 1891.

APPENDIX 289

To prevent any misunderstanding in reading the above, attention
is called to the following explanation :

An athlete has forfeited his right to compete as an amateur, and
has ttiereby become a professional by —

(a) Ever have competed in an open competition^ i. e., a competi-
tion the entries to which are open to all, irrespective as to whether
the competitors are amateurs or professionals, and, whether such
competition be for a prize or not, in any athletic exercises, viz.,
baseball, rowing, cricket, etc.

(6) Ever having competed for money in any athletic exercise.

{d) Ever having knowingjly competed with a professional for a
prize, or where gate-money is charged in any athletic exercise.

(e) Ever having taught or pursued as a means of livelihood any
athletic exercise.

(/) Ever having directly or indirectly accepted or received remu-
neration for engaging in any athletic exercise.

An athlete shall hereafter forfeit his ripht to compete as an ama-
teur, and shall thereby become a professional, if, at any time after
the foregoing definition shall take effect, he shall —

(1) Directly or indirectly receive payment for training or coaching
anv other person in any athletic exercise.

(2) Directly or indirectly receive payment for services rendered in
teaching any athletic exercise.

(3) Directly or indirectly receive payment for services rendered as
referee, judge, umpire, scorer, \nanager, director, or in any other
capacity at any professional exhibition or contest of any athletic
exerc*ise whatsoever.

Note. -Nothing herein shall be construed to prohibit the accep-
tance by any amateur of his necessary traveling expenses incurred as
referee, judge, umpire, scorer, or starter in going to and from the
place of any amateur contest.

(4) Directly or indirectly run, manage, or direct, for prospective
profit, any professional exhibition or contest.

An amateur shall not forfeit his right to compete as an amateur,
and shall not become a professional by —

(a) Receiving compensation for services rendered as ticket-taker
or ticket- seller at any contest or exhibition of amateur athletics.

(b) Receiving eoinpensation for services personally rendered as
secretary, treasurer, manager, or superintendent of any amateur
athletic club.

(c) Receiving compensation as editor, correspondent, or reporter
of, or contributor to, any sporting, athletic paper or other periodical.

(d) Running, managing, or directing, for prospective benefit, any
sporting, athletic, or other paper or periodical.

{e) Receiving compensation for services personally rendered as
official handicapper, under the direction and authority of any ama-
teur athletic association.

(/) ReceiWng from a club of which he shall be a member the
amount of his expenses necessarily incurred in traveling to and from
the place of any amateur contest.

290 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SP0BT8

ig) Nothing in this rule shall be oonstrued so as to consider a man
a professional for playing on a college team against a professional
team.

2. No one shall represent either university who is not an amateur
under the above definition, and who has not been a member of that
university, in good and regular standing, for at least one college
year prior to said meeting. In case a competitor's qualifications are
questioned, he shall furnish to the U. T. A. C. Committee a certifi-
cate signea by three members of the faculty of said university, stat-
ing that he regularly attended lectures and recitations amounting to
at least five hours a week at such university, and had done so smce
the beginning of the college year prior to said meeting.

A student shall be allowed to compete at four U. T. A. C. A. meet-
ings, and no more.

The starter of the games shall be a professional of known integrity
and ability.

The U. T. A. C. Committee shall decide all protests on eligibility
of competitors.

1. At least three weeks before the annual games a list of all the
entries shall be sent by the captain of each ccnlege team to the cap-
tain of the opposing team. Each university wiall be allowed to
enter fifteen men in each event. Any protests must be sent to the
chairman of the U. T. A. C. Committee within a week aft«r receipt
of entries. The latter shaU at once notify the members protested
and all members of the U. T. A. C. Committee.

2. He shall also send to the members protested a printed certificate
of qualifications, to be signed according to Article II, Section 2.
This certificate must have printed plainly upon its face said section,
with a space below for signature.

3. These certificates, signed, must be sent by protested contestants
to the chairman of the U. T. A. C. Committee at least three days
before ^e games.

The events shall include •

Running 100 yards ; running 220 yards ; running one quarter mile ;
running one half mile ; running one mile ; hurdle racing, 120 yards,
10 hurdles, 3 feet 6 inches; hurdle racing, 220 yards, 10 hurdles,
2 feet 6 inches ; running high jump ; running broad jump ; pole-
leaping; putting the shot, 16 pounds; throwing the hammer, 16
pounds; two-mile run.

vin

Each university shall be limited in number of contestants in each
event, as follows :

APPENDIX 291

Running 100 yards, six; running 220 yards, six; running one
<]^uarter mile, three ; running one half mile, four ; running one mile,
six; hurdle racing, 120 yards, four; hurdle racing, 220 yards, four;
field limits, five ; two mUe run, six.

IX
The order and times of the events shall be as follows:

TRACK EVENTS

(1) 3.00— 120-vard hurdles, trial heats; (2) 3.10— lOO-yard dash,
trial heats ; (3) 3.20— one-mile run ; (4) 3.30— 440-yard run ; (5) 3.40
—120-yard hurdles, final heat; (6) 3.50— 100-yard dash, final heat;

E 4.00— 880-yard run; (8) 4.15— 220-yard hurdles, trial heats;
4.25— 220-yard dash, trials; (10) 4.35— two-mile run ; (11) 4.55—
-yard hurdles, final heat; (12) 5.05— 220-yard dash, final heat.

FIELD EVENTS

(1) Shot-putting J (2) throwing the hammer; (3) pole-leaping;
(4) running broad jump ; (5) running high jump.

1. The expenses of the games, including prizes of a standard and
number to be fixed by the committee, shallbe paid for from the gate
receipts. Any surplus receipts shaU be divided between the athletic
associations of the two universities equally. In case there be a
deficit the same shall be borne equally by the athletic associations of
each university.

2. Training expenses and cost of transportation are not to be in-
cluded in the expense as considered above.

The cup referred to in the deed of gift shall be awarded each year
to the team scoring the greater number of points. The points are
to be counted as follows : First place, five : second place, two ; third
place^ one. In case of a tie the cup shall be awarded to the team
winmng the greater number of first prizes ; and, if the tie still exists,
the team winning the greater number of second prizes shall be
awarded the cup. If necessary, third prizes shall be counted in the
same way.

Each contestant shall be aUowed the exclusive use of his own shot,
pole, and hammer.

xin

The arrangements for the games shall be under the control of a
Game Committee, consisting of the four active undergraduate mem-
bers of the U. T. A. 0. Committee. The chairman of this committee
shall be chosen from the university having the choice of grounds.

292 WALTEB CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPOBTS

XIV

A special meeting of the U. T. A. C. Committee shall be isalled by
the chidrman at the request of any member of that committee.

The annual executive meeting shall take place on the second
Saturday in March at the place where games are to be held in that
year.

AihkticBules

The officials of the games shall be appointed by the U. T. A. C.
Committee, and shall be as follows :

One referee : three judges at the finish ; three timekeepers ; at least
three field judges; two or more inspectors; two or more scorers;
clerk of the course; two assistant clerks of course; starter; one
announcer.

n. CLERK OP THE COURSE

He shall record the name of each competitor who shall report to
him. Shall give him his number for each game in which he is en-
tered, and notify him before the start of every event in which he Ls
engaged. The assistants shall do such portion of his work as he
may assign them.

ni. STARTER

He shall have entire control of competitors at their marks, and
shall be the sole judge of fact as to whether or not any man has
gone over his mark.

IV. SCORER

He shall record the laps made by each competitor and call them
aloud, when tallied, for the information of the contestants. He shall
record the order of finishing and the times of the competitors as
given him by the timekeepers. The assistants shall do such portions
of his work as he may assign to them.

V. TIMEKEEPERS

A. A. U. rules to govern.

VI. JUDGES AT THE FINISH

Two shall stand at one end of the tape, and the third at the other.
One shall take the winner, another the second man, and the other
the third man. In case of disagreement, the majority shall decide.
Their decision as to the order in which the men finish shall be final
and without appeal.

Vn. FIELD JUDGES

They shall see that accurate measurement of all trials of competi-
tors in the high and broad jumps, the pole vault, and the weight

APPENDIX 293

competitions are made. They shall act as jadges of these events,
and their decisions shidl be without appeal. In case of disagreement
a majority shall govern.

Vm. REFEBEE

He shall, when appealed to, decide aU questions whose settlement
is not otherwise provided for in these rules. His decision shall be
final and without appeal. In case a race has been drawn in heats,
and no more contestants appear than enough to make one- heat, the
referee shall be empowered to see that the race is run in one heat.

IX. IN8PECT0BS

It shall be the duty of an inspector to stand at such a point as the
referee may designate ; to watcn the competition closely, and to re-
port to the referee immediately after its conclusion what he saw of
the race.

X. PROTESTS

Verbal protests mav be made at or before any athletic meetine
against a competitor by any member of either universily ; but sucn
protest must subsequently, and before action is taken thereon, be
made in writing and duly presented to the XJ. T. A. C. Committee.

XI. INNER GROUNDS

No person other than actual competitors shall be allowed on the
field or track, except the officials ana properly accredited representa-
tives of the press. This role applies to competitors not engaged in
the game actually taking place.

Xn. TRACK

The measurements of tracks shaU be eifl^hteen inches from the
inner edge, which edge shall be a solid curb raised above the levd
of the track.

Xni. STARTING SIGNALS

AU races shall be started by report of pistol, the pistol to be fired
so that its flash may be visible to the timekeepers. A snap cap
shall be no start. There shall be no recall after the pistol is fired.

XIV. STARTING

When the starter receives a signal from the judgfes at the finish
that everything is in readiness, he shall direct the competitors to get
on their marks. Any competitor starting before the signal shall be
put back one yard. For the second offense, another yard ; and for
the third shall be disqualified. He shall be held to have started
when any portion of bis body touches the ground in front of his
mark. Stations count from the inside.

294 WAX.TER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

XV. KEEPING PROPER COURSE

In all races on a straight track each competitor shall keep his own
position on the course from start to finish. Li the 100- and 220-yard
dash, courses for contestants shall be marked out by st^es protrud-
ing three feet from the ground, and connected at the top by a cord
or wire plainly marked.

XVI. CHANGE OP COURSE

In all races other than on a straight track a competitor may change
toward the inside whenever he is two strides ahead of the man whose
path he crosses.

XVn. FOULING

Any competitor may be disqualified by the referee for jostling,
running across, or in any way impeding another.

XVin. THE FINISH

The finish shaU be represented by a line between two finishing
posts, drawn across and at right angles to the side of the track.
Three feet above this line shall be placed a tape drawn tightly from
post to post. A finish shall be counted when any part of the win-
ner's body, except his hands or arms, shall touch tms tape. The tape
is to be considered the finishing for the winner, and the order of
finishing across the track line shall determine the positions for the
other competitors.

XIX. HURDLES

120-yard hurdle-race shall be over ten hurdles, each 3 feet 6 inches
high. The first hurdle shall be placed 15 yards from the scratch,
and there shaU be 10 yards between each hurdle. 220-yard hurdle-
race shall be over ten hurdles, each 2 feet 6 inches high. The first
hurdle shall be placed 20 yards from the scratch, and there shaU be
20 yards between each hurdle. Hurdle races of different distances,
and with different number and height of hurdles, may be given. No
record shall be made in a hurdle-race unless each of the hurdles, at
the time the competitors jump the same, is standing.

XX. JUMPING

No weights or artificial aid will be allowed in any jumping con-
tests except by special agreement or announcement. When weights
are allowed there shall be no restrictions as to size, shape, or material.

XXI. RUNNING HIGH JUMPING AND POLE-LEAPING

The jump or leap shall be made over a bar resting on pins project-
ing not more than three inches from the uprights. The height of
the bar at starting and at each successive elevation shall be deter-
mined by the measurers. Three trials shall be allowed at each
height. Each competitor shaU make one attempt in the order of his
name on the prog^m; then those who have failed (if any) shall

APPENDIX 295

have a second trial in regular order, and those failing on this trial
shall take their final trial. Displacing the bar counts as a " try." A
line shall be drawn six feet in front of the pole and parallel therewith
in pole-leaping, and three feet in front of the bar and parallel there-
with in high jumping ; and stepping over such line, to be known as
the balk line, sliall count as a balk. Three balks count as a '^ try."
A competitor may omit his trials at any height, but if he fail at the
next height, he shall not be allowed to go back and try the height
he omitted. Each competitor shall be credited with the best of all
his jumps or leaps.

XXII. RUNNING BROAD JUMP

The competitors shall have unlimited run, but must take off from
or behind the scratch. The scratch line shall be a joist five inches
wide, the ground in front of which shall be removed to the depth of
three and the width of six inches. Stepping over the scratch in an
attempt shall be no jump^ but shall count as a " try." Each com-
petitor allowed three ** trials," and the best three men have three
more trials each. E^ach competitor shall be credited with the best of
all his jumps. The measurement shall be from the outer edge of the
joist to the nearest break of the ground made by any part of his
person. A line shall be drawn six feet in front of the scratch line,
and stepping over such line in an attempt shall count as a balk ;
three balks count as a "try."

, XXin. PUTTING THE SHOT

The shot shall be a metal sphere weighing 16 pounds. It shall be
put from the shoulder with one hand, and during the attempt it shall
not pass behind or below the shoulder. It shall be put from a circle
seven feet in diameter, two feet of whose circumference shall be a
toe board four inches in height. Foul puts, which shall not be
measured, but which shall count as puts, are as follows :

1. Letting go of the shot in attempt.

2. Touching the ground outside the circle with any portion of the
body while the shot is in the liand.

3. Touching the ground forward of the front half of the circle
with any portion of the body before the put is measured. Each
competitor shall be allowed three puts, and the best three men in the
tirst trials shall be allowed three more puts. The measurement of
the put shall be from the nearest edge of llie first mark made by the
shot to the point of the circumference of the circle nearest such
mark.

XXnr. THROWING THE HAMMER

The hammer head shall be a metal sphere. The handle may be of
any material, and the combined length of the head and handle shall
not be more than four feet, and the combined weight shall not be
less than 16 pounds.

The hammer shall be thrown from a circle seven feet in diameter.
In making an attempt a competitor may assume any position he

296 WALTER CAMP'S BOOK OF COLLEGE SPORTS

pleases. Foul throws which shall not be measured, but which shall
count as throws, are as f oUows :

1. Lettinp^ go of the hammer in an attempt. ^

2. Touchmg the ground outside the circle with any portion of the
body while the hammer is in the hand.

3. Touching the ground forward of the front half of the circle with
an3r portion of the body before the throw is measured. Each com-
petitor shall be allowed three throws, and the best three men in the
first trial shall be allowed three more throws. The measurement
of the throw shidl be from the nearest edge of the first mark made
b^ the head of the hammer to the point of the circumference of the
circle nearest the mark.

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